Better Than That Damned Hospital
by albinogingersnap
Summary: Ichigo hates thugs, but one day, a certain bully goes to far and sends him on a trip to the school nurse; a very, interesting school nurse. AU. ShiroIchi. Sucky title. Multi-chap!
1. Chapter 1

Author; Shiro hurr.

Rating; M, you'll see why.

Disclaimers; I do not own Bleach, or else Hichigo would be running around naked.(:

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Ichigo walked along the sidewalk, donned in his standard school uniform, the neck of his white button-up shirt open to reveal the collar of the casual black tee beneath. His classmates flanked either side of him, which made him feel a little bit claustrophobic; people being so close made him nervous.

To his right was a girl of short stature with ebony locks and next to her was a taller teenager with long orange-red hair. Rukia and Orihime, both of whom he had met when he was an eighth-grader. Beyond Orihime's huge chest, which, Ichigo was convinced was where all the food she ate went, he caught sight of Uryuu subtly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Ichigo sniffed, he and Uryuu bickered quite a lot, but the self-proclaimed master of sewing never left the group even then.

On his left side was the extremely tall, deep bronze-skinned Chad, who he was initially acquainted with in his freshman year. Chad had effortlessly fended off some senior thugs who'd tried to pick a fight with Ichigo because of his bizarre orange hair. The carrot top smiled fondly at the memory, thinking about who unreal Chad's stamina and strength was.

Taking up the back of their group was Renji, a heavily tattooed kid with long red hair who liked to push Ichigo's buttons, Keigo, an annoying brunette who was much too enthusiastic, and there was Mizuiro, who managed to keep Keigo in check most of the time without much effort. The newest addition to their crew was Mashiro Kuna, a particularly odd girl with bright green hair. If he remembered right she was originally hanging out with some blond guy named Shinji and his gang.

Ichigo glanced over his shoulder; Keigo was attempting to make conversation with her, but he guessed from the blank expression she wore she wasn't paying any attention him. A pair of large sunglasses rested a top her green-dyed hair and instead of the usual red ribbon that that was tied under the collar of the girls' uniform blouse was an orange bandana tied loosely around her slender neck, claiming the dress code needed more color. To top it all off she had one of those faces you could never say no to.

The orange-haired boy turned his attention back to his front, Karakura High finally coming into view before the group. It was the beginning of the year, his senior year, and his last year. Not that he was going to miss school all that much. Rukia, Orihime, and Uryuu were advancing past him and further up the walkway, the four behind him following suit, but Ichigo's pace slowed as they closed in on the steps to the front entrance.

Standing on one of the steps was Grimmjow, a menacing boy with electric blue eyes and hair as crazy as Mashiro's. Congregated around him were his three slaves. Ulquiorra, an emo boy with black hair and heavy eyeliner, Nnoitora, an emaciated-looking kid who amazingly and freakishly cleared Chad's height by a few inches, and last was Szayel, who had dyed his hair a shocking pink of all colors and was always stressing about how he was most certainly not gay.

Ichigo ducked behind Chad's hulking form, scowling at the cerulean-haired teen from his friend's shoulder. He caught the wide, creepy grin that spread across Nnoitora's face as he extended a slim finger in Ichigo's direction. The tangerine-haired senior cursed under his breath, he really didn't need this right now. Grimmjow's face lifted, a quick smirk flitting across his lips. "Kurosaki!" He called, beckoning Ichigo over. He hesitated, thinking whether or not he could escape successfully. Chad stopped too, glancing at Ichigo wearily, obviously expecting the worst. The boy sighed and gestured to Chad to go on to class before balling his hands into fists and shoving them in his pockets, trudging over to his fellow schoolmates.

"Nice day, huh, Kurosaki?" Grimmjow smiled predatorily like he was an animal eyeing Ichigo as its prey. That grin made Ichigo sick to his stomach; the looks Grimmjow gave him made him feel extremely uncomfortable. "It'll be even better when I'm away from you..." He mumbled quietly almost inaudible. Nnoitora caught it though and the lanky teen edged forward, long black stands of hair falling onto the front of his face. The creep made a noise that was strangely close to an animalistic hiss, eyes dark with spite. "Nnoitora, knock it off, you're scaring the poor boy." Szayel cooed, the corners of his mouth turned upward in a smooth smile. Ichigo stared at him incredulously, fists tightening inside his pockets and wondering where in the world the pink-haired idiot got that sort of idea. He watched Grimmjow's hand lift and then still on the abnormally tall male's shoulder, stepping past him.

Before Ichigo could draw in another breath the blue-haired senior's fist collided with his gut and he tumbled backwards and onto his rear end, reaching up to grip his stomach and stare angrily at his assaulter. He watched Grimmjow cackle mockingly and then, quicker then Ichigo could react, the other's hand meshed into his hair, fingers gripping the orange stands tight and yanking him up harshly. The carrot top hissed through his teeth as pain pricked through his scalp, brown meeting blue as he glared at Grimmjow, scowling when he felt the brute's breath fan over his face.

"Remember who it is you're talking to, prick."

Grimmjow then struck him right across the cheek, catching the side of his mouth and causing Ichigo's teeth to rip open his lower lip. The larger male released him then, stepping back to survey his work with a smile that Ichigo could feel. He massaged his bloodied lip with his tongue, tasting the metallic flavor presented to his taste buds. Something hard smacked into the side of his skull; Grimmjow's foot. He doubled over onto his flank and moaned painfully, his head spinning and his vision unnaturally splotchy. Ichigo swore the blow had given him some serious whiplash. Another sharp kick met the region of his lower back and he cried out this time, then another kick and the cry resounded, then again, and again with one last kick to the back of his head. Ichigo whimpered despite himself, slowly turning unconsciously onto his back, wincing in obvious pain.

Grimmjow let out another wicked chuckle and then gave him one more kick, planting his foot straight into Ichigo's ribs. Ichigo held back the scream of agony that wanted to worm out of his throat, convulsing instead as a reaction. The older senior lowered himself, placing one knee on either side of the carrot top. His hand fisted up the boy's uniform shirt and he lifted him up to eye level. "Don't even try to fuck with me, Kurosaki." His voice was a near-snarl as he spoke bitterly. Ichigo cracked open his brown eyes, swallowing hard and ignoring the involuntary shiver of pain that traveled up his spine. "Who would want to fuck you anyway?" He retorted weakly, determined not to give in. Grimmjow gave a furious growl and punched him across his jaw, making his skull rebound off the concrete with a sickening thud.

Ichigo was dazed by the sudden crack to his cranium and then he felt the weight that was on top of him disappear and footsteps along with it. The beaten male groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, arms trembling as he attempted lifting himself. Eventually with a few minutes of trial and error he was on his feet, though very unsteady. He staggered forward some odd steps and then caught the railing, panting with effort; it hurt to breathe let alone move. With a wheeze he began to slowly walk, pushing one of the doors open to the empty hallway. Everyone was in class, he realized with a sigh of relief, also extremely pleased to see that the nurse's station was only several feet away. He trudged on, looking past the cracked door to see who was exactly sitting at the desk inside.

A man with snow white hair styled very much like his own sat there, skin paler than any he'd ever seen in his entire life. Ichigo could have cared less about how freaky the guy looked at that particular moment. He stepped past the threshold and stopped in front of the desk. The man was bent over in his chair, busily writing something down on papers and flipping back and forth through the stapled ones. "Wha' can I do for ya?" The white-haired male asked, not once looking away from his work. No reply. Ichigo was having trouble finding his voice, and vaguely wondering in the back of his mind why the floor was getting closer to his face by the second. Strong arms almost instantly caught him by his underarms. "Woah there, kid." The pale man grunted, taking all of the student's weight. "Ya need t' si' down." He was then charily and with great care sat in one of the chairs.

Ichigo gratefully slumped in the seat, brows knitted together at the stinging sensation making itself apparent near his temple. Footsteps echoed around him, then stopped, and then they homed in on his position. Ichigo clenched his fists and kept his eyes shut tight, expecting to feel Grimmjow strike him again. Something cold and soothing was pressed to the side of his head where the stinging had originated from, and he whined but did not find the will to pull away. In contrast, a warm hand cupped his cheek and he instantly flinched away. There was a light scoff before the contact was resumed once more. "Relax, kid. I don' wanna hurt ya or nothin'." The man's voice was calm, assuring. Ichigo's eyelashes fluttered and he opened his eyes, staring straight into molten gold. The pale-skinned nurse's eyes were indeed a bright yellow, but Ichigo assumed they were only contacts.

"Damn, par'ner." Ichigo frowned; it was weird hearing faculty curse. Unprofessional, really, but if he could process any amount of thought to care he wouldn't have either way. The said nurse was pressing a much needed ice packet to his injured head. He wore a long doctor's coat, which probably wasn't required for a school nurse but it did make him look more qualified, and white slacks. Ichigo inhaled deeply, the man smelled unusually sweet, almost like some type of butterscotch candy. The boy wiggled his nose a little as the albino patted his cheek thoughtfully and then removed the ice pack. He watched the white clad man stand and pass over to the sink, emptying out the ice there. "Wha' happened t' ya?"

Ichigo hardly heard that last comment, feeling something wet slip down the side of his face and disappear underneath his chin. He traced his finger up the trail and felt the orange tresses carefully and then brought his hand back to his brown gaze. There was a plentiful glob of blood on his middle and index finger. "I'm bleeding…?" He questioned softly. Grimmjow's shoe must have split his head pretty good when he was kicked. "'Sure are." The nurse breathed, wetting a paper towel and returning to his new patient. He wiped carefully at the wound, cleaning up the trail on the teen's tanned face. "Your name?" He inquired, curious yellow eyes focusing on Ichigo's bleeding lip as he gently wiped away the blood. Once the man had finished cleaning him off he stepped back and fixed his gaze on the carrot top.

"Ichigo, Ichigo Kurosaki." The boy replied, grumbling as the back of his head began to throb as well. The nurse nodded absently, and went over to a drawer, pulled out some materials and then set them on his desk. "I'm Nurse Shiro, you can jus' drop th' nurse par' though, I'm no' the type fer formality." The newly introduced Shiro stated as he left the materials alone and walked back over to Ichigo, crouching in front of him. "Tell me wha' happened, Ichigo." The boy looked down, he really couldn't think very well right now, but this guy was the school nurse and he needed to know these things. "This guy, Grimmjow, well he… Doesn't take to fondly to me, and I said something that offended him so he beat me up." He left out the fact that Grimmjow had been doing this for a long time now, ever since the blue-haired pain in the neck first arrived to Karakura High. Shiro seemed a little disgusted from the looks of it, and also looked like he was biting his tongue to hold back some profanity, rolling his head to make his neck pop with a loud crack. "Are ya hur' anywhere else?" The nurse asked. Ichigo's hand moved to his side and pressed down, the spot on his ribs was still tender and it would get worse as the next day came. "He kicked me in my lower back, my ribs and on the back of my head." The student reported, feeling on his sore back, it didn't hurt very much now, but it was sure to bruise over tomorrow. Shiro clicked his tongue and shook his head. "I'm surprised he didn' kill ya while he was at it." He chuckled in some sort of dark humor and then tapped on Ichigo's collarbone.

"Go 'head an' ge' yer shirt off, I wanna make sure there's no permanent damage an' such." Shiro explained and stood back up, fiddling with the assorted items he had placed on top of his desk. The carrot top paused, the very thought of taking his shirt off in front of stranger was a little weird. He sighed, Shiro was a nurse and any other person would have had to take their shirt off too. He unbuttoned his uniform and slipped it off his shoulders to rest on the chair he sat in. Then he gripped the hem of his black t-shirt and began pull it over his chest and head until it was resting over the armrest. Ichigo stood with great effort and with the nurse's help he made it over to the examining table and sat down.

Shiro's eyes roamed his torso and then he reached out a hand and rested his fingertips on the sore side of his ribcage. He pressed down his digits slowly. "Tha' hur', Ichi?" The pale man asked. Ichigo shook his head, dismissing the clever shortening of his name. The fingers shifted and pressed down again; Ichigo flinched and inhaled sharply. "'Guess tha' one hur'." Shiro mused and moved his stark white hand over to the teen's lower back, leaning forward to get a better reach. Ichigo was just getting a teensy bit uncomfortable with the fact that he was a little intoxicated by how sweet the man's scent was, and then recoiled away from the nurse sharply when he felt the fingers press against the spot on his back where he'd been kicked. "Don't." Ichigo grounded out, pain lighting his brown eyes. Shiro frowned at the student. "Ichigo, I'm no' gonna hur' ya, I promise." The albino insisted, but Ichigo stayed out of reach on the table.

The nurse sighed and turned away over to the neglecting materials on the table. Ichigo could hear him opening a box and then he returned, a roll of bandages in his hand. Shiro began to slowly wrap the bandage around his cranium, starting at the bleeding wound. "I wan' ya t' come back an' see me in a couple of days, make sure everything check's out okay." He announced, securing the dressings snuggly. Ichigo stared after the nurse as he turned away; he really didn't want to leave, for fear of getting even more mess up by the cerulean-haired thug's unmerciful hands. He might have seemed like a coward, but he wasn't stupid. Shiro returned with both his shirts and set them down beside the beaten teenager. Ichigo gripped the uniform top and shrugged it on, hands coming up to button it together. But he soon became frustrated with the fact that his hands were shaking excessively, out of fear or anger he wasn't sure which. His slim brows furrowed and he cursed, trying with all his perseverance to make the small button go into the opening. Then the man's pale hands were on his, the white skin smoother then he'd expected it to be. Ichigo looked straight down at the ground, a shadow cast over his face as his trembling slowed.

"Ichi," that nickname again, "wha's wrong?"

The carrot top lifted his head, staring into the man's eyes, close enough to the different flecks, shades, and hues of the iris. He faltered a bit at the intensity of the molten depths and quickly glanced away. "I-I can't leave. What if Grimmjow's out there? Like hell I'll be able to defend myself!" Shiro sighed at this, tightening his hold on the student's tanned hands, trying to calm him. "Ya can stay for one more class, Ichigo." His voice was low and soothing as he gave Ichigo's hands one last comforting squeeze before releasing them. The bright-haired teen watched the nurse sit back down at his desk and resume whatever he had been doing earlier with his papers. A ragged breath whooshed past his slightly parted lips in exasperation as he readied his hands for another go at buttoning up his shirt, but his fingers were just not cooperating as he began to tremble again. "Damn. It." Ichigo growled and let his hands fall to his thighs in surrender.

He heard Shiro's chair roll across the linoleum and over to the table he was sat on. "'Ere, lemme see." Shiro began to do each button in turn, with practiced ease. When he was done he rolled back over to the desk and immediately began to write again. Ichigo murmured an inaudible thank you and started to absently twiddle his thumbs. He felt heavy with fatigue; the beating had taken quite a lot out of him, but with all the hits to his head he wasn't sure it was exactly a wise idea to go to sleep. On a pro he did have a whole class period to sleep, but then the con was weighing heavily down on any pro. He glanced up at the back up of Shiro's head, who was still busy doing whatever it was he was doing; would the nurse wake him up? Without dwelling too much to become worried, Ichigo slowly lowered himself onto his flank, pulling his black t-shirt between the table and his bandaged head. He tucked his knees closer to his stomach, making sure his feet weren't dangling off the edge before his eyes slipped shut as he let the darkness of sleep take over.

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A/N; Sooooo, what did you guys think? Nifty, if I do say so myself, but also a bit eh.

An-t-ways, I'll be frequently switching perspective between Shiro and Ichi. You'll know who's perspective it is easily.

This is mah first fic I've ever posted, so be nice, pleaaase?


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright, here is your chapter two! I know I took my sweet time, but dammit, my family has an annoying habit of hovering around at the times when I find my muse.**

**So here goes;**

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Shiro hummed a soft, unidentifiable melody as he lifted up the hem of Ichigo's uniform to expose his chest. He brushed his ghostly pale fingers over the well-toned muscles of the teen's torso; resting them on his ribs where the flesh was still reddened from the kicking spree Ichigo had unfairly received. The nurse gingerly pressed against the tender area, watching the boy squirm and whimper beneath his touch while he slept. Shiro rubbed the spot apologetically till the carrot top settled again and then creased the shirt back over his stomach. Ichigo had been sleeping for the whole day, Shiro waking him every two hours to make sure he didn't have a concussion from the trauma to his head. The teen had been extremely unresponsive and went back to sleep approximately ten minutes afterwards each time.

The shrill ring of the last bell startled him out of his thoughts as he heard the excited shouts and hurried footsteps of the eager students that rushed past his door. Ichigo stirred, making sleepy sounds before opening his brown eyes. "Shiro," his voice croaked groggily, "what time is it?" The nurse watched him sit up unhurriedly and swing his legs over the edge of the examining table, rubbing his forehead. "School's ou', kid." Ichigo snapped his neck up. "I've been asleep for that long?!" He exclaimed and jumped up, flinching and then groaning as pain shot up his spine. Shiro twitched a little at that, he was angry that Ichigo was hurt so badly, he hated to see the teenager in so much pain.

He surveyed the carrot top as he stood awkwardly for a few heartbeats, the two simply staring at each other. Ichigo was the first to tear his gaze away. "I-I think I should go." The student mumbled and motioned himself toward the open doorway. Shiro opened his mouth to protest, but clamped it shut and shook his head to himself. Ichigo was a student here and he was just the school nurse; he couldn't just keep him overnight like this was some sort of hospital as much as he wanted to. "Ya walk home?" The albino detested the idea of the boy trekking back to his house completely alone, running the risk of that lunatic Grimmjow waiting outside the front entrance just to beat Ichigo again. Ichigo simply nodded. "Ya wan' a ride?" Shiro inquired, having trouble masking the hopeful note in his voice while his patient hesitated at the doorway. "Um, nah. Thanks though, for everything." He replied with a sheepish smile.

Shiro returned his own charming, lop-sided grin and then waved the carrot top off. "Ge' on then, and 'member t' come back in a couple o' days." The nurse bent over his desk again, trying to look at least halfway busy. Ichigo's footsteps disappeared a few moments later and the room became eerily quiet. Shiro exhaled noisily from his nose and stood up, removing his white coat and laying it over the back of the chair. He pulled the sleeves of shirt up to his elbows and slipped his hand into his pocket, fishing out his keys from his slacks and walking out the door, simultaneously flicking off the light switch. He shut the door and locked it behind him and as he finished closing up his office he heard some frustrated grumbles coming from the opposite side of the hall.

Shiro looked up to see a dark-haired co-worker struggling to find the right key for the door he stood in front of. The man finally took a wild jab at the doorknob with one of the silver keys and turned, the locking mechanism fastening with a pronounced _click_. The man hummed and reeled around on his heel to turn, whistling cheerily. Shiro cleared his throat and his co-worker faced him instantly. "Oh!" The slightly taller male had nearly walked straight past him without a sideways glance. "I thought you had gone home already." Shiro snorted and rolled his golden eyes, Kaien Shiba was the principal of Karakura High and definitely always seemed like he was in a rush. He had spiked hair like his own, but was a bit longer and flip-flopped in color. "You want to go get some coffee-" Kaien stopped mid-sentence to glance at the smooth metal watch on his wrist, "I got a good hour to waste."

They usually got together after school let out and even on the weekends they went to various clubs together. Kaien was a good, honest man and pretty fun to hang out with even though he was constantly getting calls and getting paged at the worst possible moments. Shiro pursed his pale lips as he considered the offer then shook his head, brushing strands of white from his eyes. "Sorry, Shiba, gotta ge' home an' feed th' cat." He replied, a small smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. Kaien shrugged visibly, obviously not hurt by the rejection, and touched his white-haired co-worker on the shoulder lightly. "Have a nice night, Shiro." The fellow faculty member turned the other way and jogged straight down the hallway and out the double doors. Maybe he was so high-strung because he almost always held a cup of espresso in his hand, over time that would turn the calmest person into a spazz.

Shiro followed after him more languidly, catching one of the doors falling shut with his foot and pushing it back wide open He pushed his way through the near-empty parking lot, past cars that were probably going to be here till nightfall. Some of the teachers at Karakura High worked way too much overtime. He stopped at his own sleek black vehicle, wrenched open the door to the driver's seat and slid inside. The albino sank comfortably into the felt seat, letting the back of his head thump back onto the headrest with a sigh. He closed his eyes and gripped the steering wheel, focusing on the tempo of his heartbeat that seemed particularly loud in the car. Worry began to tighten in his chest and he clenched the wheel harder; Ichigo was not his responsibility off school grounds, he couldn't just follow him around, that would certainly make him seem like nothing more than a perverted nurse stalker. Shiro just couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong, if this Grimmjow kid could do that to Ichigo, who knew what else he could do if given the chance.

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He shivered as a light, cool breeze brushed past him, folding his arms tightly across his chest as he continued walking parallel to the street. His back hurt and his ribs did as well, but at least his head was sort of decent in the wrappings Shiro and dressed it in. Ichigo was virtually the only one on the sidewalk; literally, it was like no one was even out and about that day. The hair on the back of his neck suddenly rose as he heard someone's footsteps behind him; two sets of footsteps that were closing in fast. Panic fluttered in him, making his heart increase in rate, his flight instinct kicking in. He had to get away; had to run. He quickened his pace, limping a bit at the sharp pain that accompanied the change of speed in his walking. The steps behind him were sounding closer and faster too; they were gaining on him. As Ichigo rounded the corner he made a break for it, legs taking long strides across the concrete as he broke into a run.

The footsteps behind thundered after him, most likely at a much quicker pace than he could accomplish. Ichigo veered into the nearest alleyway, stumbling over something but not falling, and running smack into a dead end. His breaths came in harsh pants that tore from his throat, looking around for some means of escape. The footsteps stopped and Ichigo looked up to see two silhouettes outlined against the opening of the alleyway. His gut clenched when he recognized his two pursuers, one with sky blue hair and cold, cerulean eyes, the other with long black hair and a lanky body. The two advanced on him and he instinctively back further away from them, his heart pounding furiously.

"Get away from me." He snapped a warning, but Grimmjow kept coming towards him, that sickening, predatory smile nudged on his lips. Light glinted off something in Grimmjow's hand and when the sheen died Ichigo saw the blade peeking out from the senior's fist. His stomach churned, glancing wildly around, seeing Nnoitora was casually leaned against a wall, his creepy grin making Ichigo's spine crawl as he blocked the only escape route. "J-just back the hell off Grimmjow!" Ichigo's voice quivered when he spoke. Grimmjow scowled and pointed the knife at him. "Turn around and get against the wall." He ordered. The orange-haired boy started to repeat over and over that, that had to be a joke; he stared at the older male in complete disbelief, or was he being serious? The sky blue-headed male let out a snarl and shifted towards him in one movement, jerking the blade at the nearby bricks. "I said get your scrawny ass on the wall, brat!" The older teenager shouted.

Ichigo grimaced at him but obeyed, and turned his back to his two fellow schoolmates, pressing his body against the nearest wall. He could feel the other's eyes roaming his backside eagerly and shifted uncomfortably. Then the cool, sharp-edged metal blade was pressed to the smooth skin of his neck. Ichigo let out an unidentifiable noise of surprise, when had Grimmjow gotten so close to him? The taller male's breath tickled his ear and his body was fitted tight against his own. Ichigo swallowed nervously, stilling underneath the other completely. "You tattled on me didn't you, Kurosaki?" The boy didn't answer him, just gritted his teeth and fixed his jaw stubbornly. He heard Grimmjow chuckle, shuddering involuntarily when his hand rested on top of the toned muscles of his stomach. "What a _fucking_ mistake." The malicious tone in his voice made Ichigo try to shy away, beginning to squirm and panic.

The knife pressed into his flesh as it nicked a long laceration across his neck and he whimpered. "Get off of m-me, bastard." The hand on his stomach slipped underneath his shirt and up to his chest, the knife still placed in the shallow wound, but not moving an inch deeper. "Shut the fuck up." Grimmjow growled into his ear huskily, his blunt nails clawing angry red lines down Ichigo's bruised side, who gasped out and writhed beneath him. The hand then hooked under the waistband of his trousers and he was spun around, his back pressed into the brick wall, which in turn made him arch against other unwillingly as the jagged surface dug into his injured back. Grimmjow's large hands gripped his slim hips in a bruising vice, the blade in one hand pressing against the skin on his flank dangerously.

Ichigo's brown eyes looked into the other's blue with pure malice, they're faces were much too close and their lips were nearly touching. The boy let out a relieved sigh when Grimmjow moved his head away and downward, thanking whatever higher power was out there that the senior had not done what Ichigo had expected him to, but he had to bite back a strangled moan when the sick bastard suddenly dove his tongue into the gash on the slighter teen's neck. Grimmjow lapped up the blood greedily with the pink appendage, sadistic eyes fixed on the expressions flitting across Ichigo's face. His hands came up and he began to push at the older senior's shoulders frantically, trying to pry him off, but it wasn't working, Grimmjow was just plain stronger than him. The hands on his hips tightened their grip and he bit his lower lip hard at the dual pain overwhelming his senses. That offending mouth finally parted form his abused wound and Grimmjow lifted his head, perverse grin curved upward on his lips that were still shiny red from Ichigo's blood.

He was breathing loudly he noticed and closed his parted mouth, glaring defiantly at his assaulter, but then -as if he could've fought back- Grimmjow did the damnedest thing and pressed his bloody mouth to Ichigo's pink lips. His cheeks got hot with embarrassment and he was madly trying to push the male off him again, and even when the other's disgusting tongue traced his lower lip he didn't give him entry to his own cavern. Grimmjow pulled back, frowning in clear dissatisfaction. "Don't resist me, Kurosaki." He threatened and drew the hand with the knife from the boy's marred hip. It happened all too quickly, before Ichigo even knew it had happened he was screaming at the intense pain that set fire to his upper arm.

Grimmjow had plunged the blade straight through his shoulder, hand still poised on the hilt as he twisted it a little and Ichigo groaned in agony. "No more fighting back now, or the next one is going in your fucking gut, and," he pause to turn the hilt again and Ichigo twisted his head from side to side, pants and whimpers of pain escaping his parted lips, "you're being way too damn noisy, brat." He hissed into the carrot top's ear and tugged the knife free. Ichigo's legs threatened to give out, put the hold on his hip kept him standing. Grimmjow's hands shot up and the knife clattered to the hard ground as he ripped the buttons of Ichigo's shirt clean off, tugging the sleeves down until the uniform fell to the ground along side the blade. He stepped away, the boy swaying and gripping the brick wall behind him for support, his brown eyes squinted with pain, but the sheer emotion held behind them was fear.

"On your knees, Kurosaki."

Ichigo did not object, he just fell to the cement with a painful thud straight on his knees, face contorted with anguish. Grimmjow smiled at the broken image of his victim, and kneeled down in front of the boy, who looked at him fearfully with those expressive brown eyes. He grabbed the discarded shirt and knife and used it to rip two strips of white fabric apart, tossing the blade once more. Ichigo's hands were planted on the cold ground, eyeing Grimmjow as he reached up to his face with the torn cloth. He wrapped the fabric over the boy's mouth before he could protest and tugged him closer; leering at the sight presented to him and then wrenched the boy's wrists forward. "Didn't I tell you to fucking shut up when we first started our little game?" Ichigo blinked, so this was all a game for Grimmjow? And he was the toy that sadistic brute was going to play with. It was pointless to struggle, because Grimmjow was an insane psychopath who would probably hold his word to stabbing him in the stomach.

Another bond was tied tightly around both his wrists and he draped himself unintentionally on Grimmjow's chest, having no other support but his knees that were on either side of the other. He heard the noise of his zipper being pulled down and the unfastening of the button keeping his pants together as it gave way easily under the other's thumb. His pulse quickened dramatically higher, breathing through his nose unevenly. _Oh god, oh god, oh god, please- shit- don't do this…_ His words were muted by the restraining cloth as Grimmjow pulled his trousers down to reveal his black boxers, the clothing pooling around the back of his knees. He wished dearly that this wasn't happening, that Grimmjow's rough hands weren't touching him and places that he shouldn't be, that he wasn't bruised and bleeding.

Fingers played over the insides of his thighs and he shuddered with revulsion, angry for the heat that was making itself apparent between his legs. This was sick, twisted, he didn't care if it gave him pleasure or not, it was just totally wrong. Warm wet trails slipped down his cheeks silently, staining the cloth with the saline tears, and he couldn't believe he was actually crying. Grimmjow smiled smugly at him, taunting him by licking up his tears as his hand slipped into the teen's boxers. The sound of someone's shoes slapping on the concrete bounced of the alley walls, and Grimmjow's form went rigid and he snapped his neck around, someone was coming right towards them, and fast. The blue-haired male pushed Ichigo away roughly by his arm, and the cloth that covered his mouth, the tears stinging the corners of his eyes again, muffled an agonizing moan. He breathed heavily, his flanks heaving at the white hot pain that seared through his upper arm; never before had he been stabbed, it was… Indescribable how much it hurt.

Several muffled shouts, Ichigo wasn't listening close enough to decode all the words, and he began to try and loosen the bonds on his wrists. The material chaffed his skin and he cursed in his mind, it was no use. There was a loud snapping/cracking noise and he flinched as Grimmjow toppled over on his backside right in front of him. Blood was smeared over his nose and he was literally seething as he lifted his hand to cup over his injury. Ichigo didn't bother staring any longer, though he did see out of the corner of his eye that Grimmjow was yanked up by the collar of his shirt. He tried to free his wrists once more, the skin beneath beginning to prick in irritation at the strain of fabric against flesh. He was doubled over on his side, on the shoulder that was aching with mind-numbing pain. More running footsteps, someone was retreating, probably not Grimmjow. Ichigo grunted as Grimmjow began walking back over to him.

He let out a sob of frustration; he was just going to let this monster molest him? _What choice do I have? I can't get away…_ He thought hopelessly. A shadow loomed over him, crouched behind him. The carrot top's eyes searched frantically and he shuddered. He wasn't going to lie to himself, he was terrified, and he didn't want this happening. It couldn't happen, it couldn't-. "Ichigo." That voice, he knew it, it definitely wasn't that bastard who had his hand in his pants earlier. A stark white hand was placed on his hip softly, and the other hooked a finger underneath the cloth over his mouth and tugged it down so it rested on Ichigo's collarbone. "Sh-Shi-" He couldn't say his name, it couldn't be him, how could it be?

The hand on his bruised hip clenched slightly, but not roughly. He was turned over and carefully sat up; the white-haired man freed his wrists and inhaled sharply when he saw the student's wounds clearly. Those golden eyes were on his neck and his shoulder. "Ichigo, did he stab you?" Shiro demanded. Ichigo didn't look at him and he bit his lower lip that insisted on quivering. "Look a' me, Ichi." He murmured and tilted the boy's chin up towards his face, looking straight into his eyes. Ichigo shivered at the unnerving molten depths of the nurse and nodded faintly. Shiro let his hand fall and he helped the orange-haired student to his feet, supporting most of his weight. "You need t' ge' t' th' hospital, Ichigo. I'll drive ya there an' I'll-"

"N-no." Ichigo tried to wriggle out the older man's grasp. "Pl-please don't make me go there." He pleaded, for whatever reason he didn't want to go there he wasn't sure, but it was one of those gut feelings. Shiro frowned, but said nothing. The carrot top looked around at the dismal setting. There were a few small pools of blood scattered, and the majority of his torn clothes lay on the cement ground. He felt a chill creep across his body and realized his boxers were the only thing giving him any dignity. "Shiro, can we get out of here?" He didn't look at the other, but he did hear and awful lot of rustling.

Ichigo glanced over and squeaked a little in the back of his throat to see the man's bare chest. It was impossibly white, like the rest of him, the expanse of immaculate skin looked smooth too, he almost wanted to touch it. Ichigo smacked himself mentally, where in the hell had that come from? The albino extended his arm forward with his button-up shirt in hand towards the boy. Ichigo took it wordlessly and slipped one arm in carefully, hesitating only slightly before running the other through the opposite sleeve, albeit the pain wracked through his shoulder again. Shiro gestured for him to go on and the two both walked out the alley together, the student fidgeting from the light breeze that blew past his boxer-clad legs.

The albino jogged ahead, simultaneously protruding a key out from his pocket. He pointed a slim finger towards an expensive-looking black car and Ichigo slid over to the passenger's side, faintly wondering how in the world a school nurse could afford this kind of car. He opened the door and sat down, ever wary of his bruised body and wounds. The nurse was already in and shoved the key in the transmission, starting the car, which made virtually no noise except for a weak purring sound. "Where am I takin' ya then?" He inquired, stepping on the gas pedal. Ichigo slouched in the comfortable seat, inhaling the sweet scent of the man on the shirt given to him and looked out the tinted window. "Not home, I need to get myself cleaned up before I go there. I don't want my family to jump on me with a thousand questions." He answered, and traced his fingers along the cut on his neck, thinking back out how disgusting and painful it was when that bastard and stuck his tongue inside of it. Ichigo shivered faintly, not from his lack of pants.

"Yer cold." It was more of a statement then a question.

"No, more or less disgusted."

"Care t' elaborate, or is tha' askin' too much?"

"All I want to say is that Grimmjow," his throat burned a little at the name, "is sick."

His brown eyes traced the other's jaw line in time to see the corners of his mouth curve down, furrowing his eyebrows. The man's expressions were interesting; every one of them seemed rather suiting for his handsome features. Handsome? Ichigo blinked in astonishment, had he been admiring Shiro's attractiveness? Before he could brood over the fact that the charming creature before him was very much indeed capturing his lust interest, the other's mouth parted to speak: "Ichi, I know this is goin' t' be pretty personal for me t' ask bu', did he-.. touch you?" The nurse spoke the last words like they were diseased, and judging by the way his jaw went taut uttering them, Ichigo knew the idea sickened him. The orange-haired boy clenched and unclenched his fist, that was a personal issue all right, but for some reason he felt oddly compelled to answer the albino. Shiro saved him after all, whether he had rights to know what happened to him or not. Ichigo swallowed and let out a shaky breath, he just wasn't sure he could reply with his words coming out in stutters. "Y-yeah… He k-kissed me too."

He shut his eyes immediately afterwards, the memory alone enough to bring nausea swirling in his stomach. He swore he heard the grip on the steering wheel tighten. "I'm sorry, Ichigo." Shiro's voice had lowered dramatically, and not once had he looked towards the carrot top. "That's alright, y-you don't have to apologize." It wasn't all right, he hated the fact that Grimmjow had actually kissed him and touched him no less, but hearing the albino apologize wasn't enough to undo that wrong.

"Where did ya wanna go 'gain?"

"I never said."

"Well, spill. I don' know where else t' take ya if ya don' wanna go home…"

"Can I-…. Can I wash up at your place? I just really don't want my family to see me like this.."

Shiro looked at him and blinked his neon eyes a few times before smiling the charming trademark grin that seemed to be habitual. "Fine wit' me, bu' I'm takin' ya straight home afterwards." The car veered smoothly as if on ice to the right and the albino pressed down the pedal and they sped off in, well, whichever cardinal direction they were speeding off to.

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**A/N: Yes, yes, it sucked, I know. Shut up and enjoy the wait for next chapter, whenever I get around to it. x_x**

**Reviews are much appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 3

**FINALLY.**

**I finished chapter three, thank the heavens. I know, I procrastinated big time.. But I've been very busy lately. I hope you guys think it was worth the wait!**

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The moment they stepped into the apartment he decided that the nurse had a pretty nice set up. The living room was furnished with an ebony finished coffee table and beyond that was a light green sofa that looked velvety smooth to the touch with a neighboring cream recliner. On the beige-painted wall closest to him was a small-sized bookcase; next it was a normal-looking television that didn't look too terribly fancy. Ichigo guessed it probably wasn't used very often judging by who owned it; he figured that Shiro didn't seem like the T.V.-watching type anyhow. The kitchen was small, the most noticeable piece being the shining, metallic, stainless steel fridge, the one that had the ice maker and clock on it; the really snazzy one. He watched the albino carefully as he slid out of his shoes with practiced ease and pushed them close to the front door. The white-skinned man turned back to him and gripped the collar of the shirt he was wearing with both hands, and began easing it off carefully. Ichigo helped when it was needed, and of course wincing when the fabric whispered over his injured shoulder.

"Uh, Shiro.." He started, noticing the particularly large spot of blood on one sleeve. "I'm sorry about getting blood on your shirt." Shiro lifted a brow quizzically and chuckled, his voice was oddly high-pitched, and the laugh sounded more like a giggle. "Don' be silly, Ichi. That's a pretty dumb thing t' apologize for." He said and tossed the shirt across the room, Ichigo half-knowing the nurse would return to pick it up later, his apartment looked tidy after all. Bloody shirts just couldn't be chunked onto the floor. "Go si' down, kid, I'll ge' a rag t' clean ya off." He said, ushering the boy onto his sofa and then walked over to the kitchen. If Ichigo were a little more embarrassed about being in an almost complete stranger's place he would have blushed at that last comment, but since he felt unusually safe with the pale man then he knew the other meant well.

Shiro returned and hovered a little over the carrot top's neck wound with washcloth in hand. "This migh' sting a lil'." He warned and began to wipe away the dried up blood and other mingled fluids, of which being Grimmjow's saliva, from around it. Then the albino's eyes moved over to his shoulder and the warm, wet rag did too as he rubbed gingerly at the blood crust to his skin until he could see the puncture clearly. He set the now-red washcloth aside and examined his wounds carefully. "Why didn' ya le' me take ya home?" Shiro asked. Ichigo looked up into his eyes; those golden hues swam with concern more than anything, but still were eerie enough to where he couldn't hold his gaze. "I'm not sure… I wish I would've now." He murmured regretfully, looking away and down. Shiro sighed rather audibly and stood with his back facing Ichigo. Brown eyes glanced up. "That's in th' past now, nothin' can be done 'bout it, so don' sweat it." He replied and walked off, disappearing through a small hallway to the right. He returned with a roll of bandages poised in his palm and began to dress Ichigo's wounds. All his injuries were wound with bandages, and even the ones on his head were replaced. He stood slowly, bruised body stiff with pain, and looked himself over. He rested his palm on his side; his skin had colored a sick yellow shade with assorted purples. He didn't even want to look at his back; it probably looked like a car had hit him, multiple times. "Ya need some new clothes, I s'pose. Ya jus' migh' be able t' fi' mine, eh?" Shiro beckoned for the student to follow him down the hall and into the bedroom. Shiro turned on his heel to face to meet the other's gaze at the doorway.

"Oi! Watch ou' fer th' floor it's-"

Too late, Ichigo had already tripped on… well, he wasn't exactly sure what in the world he stumbled on and was attempting to catch himself multiple times. Just as soon as he had completely lost all his balance he toppled over into the other, which sent them both flailing to the ground. He fell smack on top of the nurse, breath hitching as he used his injured arm to catch his fall, the shoulder quickly giving out as he fell the rest of the way onto Shiro. The man grunted, his hands splayed out and his knees bent with Ichigo's legs on either side of him. "I was… jus' abou' t' tell ya 'bout the floor and how it's a little retarded." The paler male grumbled. Ichigo mumbled in agreement of just how retarded the floor was, and how stupid it was of it to trip him and send him flying onto the most generous school faculty member he'd ever met. Not to mention the whole situation with him on top the nurse was rather… embarrassing. He was on top of Shiro, the thought clicked on like a light switch being flicked into the on position. "Sorry!" The word flew from his mouth as he struggled to get off the albino, his back screaming at him to just give up and lay there content on top of Shiro's bare chest. The nurse's hands found his forearms and he squirmed out from beneath him and helped him up easily. Ichigo wrenched his arms away, mumbling an inaudible thanks and inwardly growled about his wounds that were probably bleeding again from the whole ordeal.

He watched as Shiro walked over to a dark wooden bureau and started fishing through the drawers. A white shirt sailed over his head and Ichigo caught it along with a pair of jeans that were also thrown his way. "Go 'head an' get those on." Shiro said, and parked himself comfortably on the side of his bed. Ichigo looked uneasy, putting clothes on in front of this presumably – at least – twenty-year-old man. Then again, he was half-naked already and the same guy had found him bound in an alleyway, helpless. He tugged the pants over his slim legs and shrugged on the soft, cotton shirt more slowly. He sighed and looked up at Shiro, who was still staring at him. Was that possessiveness he saw in his eyes? No, perhaps protectiveness. There was no telling. "Ready to take me home?"

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Rain streaked down the tinted windshield of the expensive black vehicle. The silence inside was thick and heavy with tension, the only sound being the man's smooth skin tightening and loosening over the fine leather of the steering wheel. His jaw was taut, stiff in a stubborn line beneath his pale skin, bright yellow eyes narrowed into thin slits. Ichigo had told him not to ever help him again, that he could take care of himself. Shiro took a hand from the wheel and massaged the back of his neck in exasperation; the boy was a damned fool. Air rushed out of his lungs and through his nose in a heavy sigh. Why was he so protective over Ichigo anyway? The kid was a student, who was seventeen, and he was a school nurse who was in his twenties. Any proper friendship would be inappropriate, but Shiro wasn't about to leave him alone. He was drawn to Ichigo, and the boy was very similar to himself when he was growing up. Shiro pushed the pedal and the car accelerated forward like some kind of animal pursuing its prey. That Grimmjow was going to pay, a broken nose just wasn't satisfying enough. The white-skinned man veered to the left sharply; thanking whatever higher power his tires had enough traction not to slide over the slick asphalt road, and parked his vehicle parallel with practiced precision. He reached over and fished out his jacket from the backseat and then slid out of the car while simultaneously slipping the jacket over his sinewy form. Shiro rounded the car and approached the neon-lighted building he'd parked his vehicle in front of.

A dark silhouette hovered at the entrance, sheltered from the steadily increasing downpour by the awning overhead. Black hair dusted over stormy blue eyes and a familiar smile of perfect white teeth creased handsome features. "Nice weather, huh, Shiro?" The young man inquired, stepping to where the albino could see him clearly. Shiro rolled his eyes at his friendly co-worker and cleared beneath the awning and out of the rain. "Shiba, I need a drink already. I'm payin', so go on an' get your ass inside, it's startin' to piss it down ou' here anyway." The nurse grumbled and trudged over to the door. Kaien's smile faded into dismal understanding. "Rough day." He commented, a hand appearing from the pocket of his maroon trench coat and flicking the brass knob roughly to the right. The small bell tied to the door chimed in their arrival cheerfully, but the voices inside paid no heed and drowned the sound out. "How'd ya figure?" Shiro growled sarcastically, the door shutting with a thud behind them. The man shook his hair of the stubborn moisture that clung to his silvery strands, water rivulets beading the exposed skin of his chest and stomach. Some of the men and women present were regulars, and then some were not.

A particularly boisterous woman with a full chest bounced right up to him and started tugging on his jacket and asking him the lewdest things, and just when he shooed her away some sandy-haired pervert gave him a few catcalls. "How flattering." His companion teased with a half-annoyed chuckle and a knowing glance, Kaien hated perverts just as much as he did. Shiro simply scoffed in agreement, it seemed as though every time they came to this particular pub they got loads of attention from lecherous drunks. "So, why'd you call me up and drag me out here for a drink on a Thursday night?" Kaien inquired, plopping into a seat at the bar, Shiro slouching into the stool beside him. "Bartender!" The said woman hurried over to them, eyes wide and expectant with long, flowing blonde locks, complete with a fake smile to match her equally fake appearance. The albino frowned at her and held up two fingers, and she nodded. "The usual then, sir?" Kaien gave her a charming grin; he always looked so mature and polite. "Ah, miss, do we ever stray from the usual?" The older man inquired in his sweet-as-honey, sweep-any-woman-away voice, Shiro echoing him with a humored snort. The female giggled, she had always taken a liking to Kaien more than himself, which was most likely because he was an albino freak and Kaien was the movie star-handsome guy. The blonde waitress waked to other end of the counter, probably where their preferred drink was kept.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, senior." Shiro murmured the boy's name; it felt good to say it aloud again. The principal made a curious noise in the back of his throat, the bartender reappearing with two identical brown bottles. "Is he one of ours?" Kaien asked interestedly, taking his drink and mouthing a quiet thank you to their server. Shiro took his own without a word and immediately tipped the neck and brought the rim of the bottle to his bone white lips. The amber liquid slid down his throat with a satisfying burn and then he parted from his drink with a sigh of pure contentment. Alcohol was good. "Kid came to my office purple, yellow and all bloodied up." The nurse explained, anger nestling itself in his chest. How he'd remained calm without busting a vein he'd never know. Kaien sighed exasperatedly, long fingers wrapped around his drink as he hung his head for a few seconds. "Punks think they can just get away with that crap." Shiro chuckled rather hysterically. "They do!" At that he took another drink of his alcohol and scowled, "This remedial asshole, Grimmjow, beat 'im up real bad." He nearly spat the name as if it were an insult. Kaien gave a hard swallow and laughed. "Jeagerjaques, had to deal with that one all day. Blue-haired thug he is; gave the poor P.E. teacher a hard time." The dark-haired man paused. "Why wasn't the incident with Kurosaki reported?" His facial expression was relatively calm, but the emotion in his dark blue eyes glinted with annoyance. Shiro was taking tiny sips at his beer, the bottle poised almost delicately between his pale fingers. "He stayed in my office 'til school was ou'. I kept tryin' t' wake him up for his next class, but he would jus' grumble a' me and go back t' sleep." The nurse clarified.

He glanced at his friend, watching the slighter male's Adam's apple bob up and down as he guzzled down his alcohol. "Well, you released him eventually, right? You think he got home okay?" Kaien asked, face staring straightforward. Shiro's chest tightened as he remembered finding the orange-haired student with Grimmjow trying to… He didn't want to even revisit that disgusting memory. "I know for a fact he didn', Shiba." The albino murmured grimly. Kaien gave him a curious sideways glance, a silent gesture to continue. "Well, after school was over wit' and I sent Ichigo home, I went ou' t' my car and got this weird feelin' of dread in my gut. So, I pushed the gas and caught up wit' him, then I started following 'im." Kaien was already giving him a skeptical look as he stopped to take quite a generous swig from the bottle in front of him. "You do know that's called stalking, don't you?" Shiro grimaced at that, and slammed the bottle down with a loud clank from the glass meeting wood. "Just le' me finish, Shiba." The alabaster-skinned male snapped, satisfied when his companion made no signal to interrupt him. "After abou' ten minutes or so I caught sight of him disappear into some random ass alleyway. I didn' see anyone else, bu' I still sat parked there for a good twenty minutes jus' kind of dozing off. Then I woke up and decided to see if had actually gotten out of the damned alley." Shiro's shoulders slouched forward and his muscles tensed beneath his coat, his yellow eyes casting down at the floor. "That's when I found 'em. If I hadn' been there when I was, Grimmjow would've done a lo' worse than a few cuts and heavy bruisin'." He finished, his teeth beginning to grind together as the memory alone made his blood boil.

The dim light of the pub cast a perfect shadow over the elder man's face, making his expression a mystery as he spoke gruffly, "I can't punish him for anything that was off the school grounds, I'll deal with the offense that was at school, but that's all I can do." "I know ya can't, so I did it my way and punched him in the face. Broke his nose too!" He couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at his lips, recalling the satisfying crunch as soon as his fist met Grimmjow's face. Kaien buried his face in his palm and sighed. "That was not mature on your behalf, you're a grown man, and you can't just punch a minor's nose in." He said quietly while shaking his head slightly. Shiro snorted indifferently. "Minor my ass, the brute's nineteen." He growled. Kaien finished the last of his alcohol and gestured to the female bartender for a second. "Well, you got your revenge, right? Why are you here, drinking no less?" The principal asked, despite his gaze that fell disapprovingly upon his albino co-worker, absently grabbing the new bottle left for him.

Shiro rubbed his forehead. "I think I might like the boy, too much, I wan' t'… get involved wit' 'im, Shiba." He replied, taking his new drink that was handed to him. Kaien's eyes widened, shock surging through their deep blue depths like a wave of dark ocean. "Shiro! He is younger, he is a student, and you're a member of my faculty! You know there is absolutely nothing legal about that." Shiro looked at his nails half-mindedly and pursed his lips. "He'll be eighteen soon enough." He countered, fingertips absently trailing the rim of the bottle next to him. The man beside him flipped the ebony locks from his eyes and gave him a hard stare of disbelief. "You're risking your job!" Kaien barked coldly. Shiro smiled smugly, draping his arm over the side of the bar as he turned fully toward his black-haired friend. "Like hell ya gonna turn me in, Shiba. Ya way too damn nice for tha'." "Even so," Kaien began with a distinctive grimace and sighed, "If anyone found out, you'd be in jail."

He didn't press on after that said, and when Shiro made no further comment on the matter he switched the subject, "That side job of yours doing you any good?" Shiro laughed dryly and took a giant swig of beer. "Ah, I s'pose it is. I'm on vacation righ' now, so they tell me." He drawled with a humored sniff. The older of the two arched one slim, dark eyebrow in interest. "In other words, they have no work for you at the moment, am I right?" The inquiry hung in the air along with the other chattering voices for a few seconds too long. Kaien was right; they hadn't contacted him with any business for several months, which probably meant they would be giving him a call very soon. There was no way the business could be on a dry spell for any longer than it already had been. It was one of those, 'calm before the storm' things, or so he thought. "They've hinted a few things 'ere and there, bu' nothings ever clear wit' those bastards anyway. Lord knows when they're gonna jump me with somethin' t' do for their lazy asses…" Shiro answered, and knew the other's words before they even fell from his lips. "I will never get used to this, Shiro, I don't like what you do one bit." Kaien stated coolly. The nurse chuckled at him slightly; he'd heard that before, lots of times.

"Yes ya are used t' it, or else ya would've already re-" The words died on his tongue as his attention was quickly diverted to the small bell tinkling at the opening of the front entrance. Hate flared in his chest with such fierceness it almost knocked him out of his seat, and every muscle in his body tensed. In the doorway stood a tall figure, easy-to-pick-out sky blue hair drenched with rainwater. There was always some arrogance about him that Shiro couldn't quite get a grip on how someone who was such a royal pain the ass could be that prideful. Then again, most people like that were egotistical pricks. Azure eyes glanced forward and almost instantaneously caught his yellow, the pair suddenly flaring with angry recognition like twin blue flames. With a seemingly permanent scowl, he began stalking his way through the room over to the school faculty members, his nose covered lightly in red-tinted gauze. Shiro hissed under his breath as the young male finally towered before them with a glower that was probably frightening enough to scare small children. Kaien was keeping his cool, as always, the man was never much for overdoing grudges or anything similar. "Grimmjow, always a pleasure to see you." His voice was overly polite to the point of slight sarcasm, but what more could you expect? The blue-haired ruffian was cutting people and kicking them in the face, etcetera. A punk like that deserved even less though. Shiro cursed his luck mentally about a billion times, the damned kid was allowed to be in here because he was eighteen, and, if the pub didn't bother to check I.D., he looked older than twenty-one. Getting in must have been a piece of cake.

The albino stood, reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out his wallet to cast a few bills on the counter. "I'll see ya a' work tomorrow, Shiba." He mumbled half-heartedly, then, before Kaien could object, he shoved past Grimmjow and made his way to the door. The muscular teenager laughed wickedly, almost mockingly. Shiro's eye visibly twitched. Grimmjow craned his neck to have a staring contest with the back of Shiro's head, his gaze vicious enough to burn holes through the albino's skull. "I'll get him next time, freak, you won't be there to save his sweet ass." He provoked, lip curled up in a contemptuous sneer.

Shiro snapped.

He turned swiftly on his heel and grabbed the student by the shoulder, whipping him around harshly, hoping he gave the damned boy some neck trauma with such a brutal force. Ignoring the many shrieks of startled, drunken women, he slammed him into the edge of a nearby table. Grimmjow's large hands flew behind him to brace himself on the tabletop, knocking over glassware and other assorted items to the floor with multiple crashing sounds, as Shiro leaned over him nearly spitting with rage. "You won' harm a hair on 'im, bastard, an' I'll make for damn sure of it!" He snarled, ramming the other's spine further into the sharp, round edge. Kaien had been in the process of registering the whole situation, but the bartender was on her feet in a flash, prepared to intercept the whole ordeal. "Knock it off, both of you!" She screamed above the faint music and alarmed voices. Kaien was there now as he grabbed the pale man's shoulders and ripped him off Grimmjow with a forceful tug. The white-haired nurse shouldered him away with a protesting growl, and, sending a glare full of piercing daggers straight at Grimmjow, stormed off and out the door.

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**A/N: Please review and tell me what you thought!**

**By the way, this one looked a little short, was it? **

**Eh, anyways, prepare for the wait of chapter four everyone!**


	4. Chapter 4

**So, I was seated here at my little computer desk, eating Cookies 'n Cream ice cream when I suddenly thought; "I should probably update my story.."**

**I love all of my readers! :D Soooo many people reviewed my lil' fic and I am extremely grateful. I thank you all who reviewed and I apologize for the wait.**

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"Oh, Berry-kun, what's with all the bandages?" The ever curious, almost nymph-like Mashiro prodded her tangerine-haired classmate, marveling up at him from under her huge white sunglasses. She was the first to finally question him about his dressings throughout the whole day, though he had been getting an awful lot of bizarre looks from his peers. Just yesterday Grimmjow had messed him up to the point where he'd looked like he jumped off a bridge and into a river full of sharp, pointy rocks. Ichigo blinked at her as she began to tug at the hem of his school uniform and made a move to lift it up. "Do you have more under here? Lemme see, lemme see!" She chimed exuberantly, almost in some sort of overdramatic, excited concern. The carrot top nudged her smaller frame away easily and held onto his shirt warily, half-expecting another extroverted assault on his clothing.

The equally short, raven-haired girl at the far side of their makeshift seating arrangement/circle glared at him through suspicious indigo eyes. "Ichigo, we're just… worried about you." She said in a somewhat stern voice and crossed her petite arms across her chest. Ichigo sighed, telling her wasn't an option. Rukia was known to make a huge deal out of everything, and especially when it involved him. He looked at Orihime; her concerned green eyes were staring straight at him, but as soon as he locked gazes with her she glanced away. She was definitely worried about him, and she always was, after all, the girl had a humongous crush on him and he knew it. "I just got in a little fight is all." He insisted. Rukia gave him a hard stare and turned her tiny body around to speak in a hushed voice with the red-orange-haired senior girl beside her.

Chad, who was squatted beside him like a crouching tiger, bowed his head. "Grimmjow?" He asked in his deep voice, the sudden guttural noise nearly scared him. Ichigo was extremely jumpy ever since he had gotten his ass handed to him; twice, flinching even if someone only laid a finger on him. The carrot top's stomach churned at the sound of his enemy's name, and he swore at that moment every cut and bruise on his body pulsed in remembrance at the painful beating he'd received. "Twice, after school too." Ichigo murmured near inaudibly. "You should've let me stay with you yesterday morning, Ichigo." Chad's voice was amazingly quiet for how gruff it was. "I wasn't going to get you involved with him." He retorted, brown eyes focusing on one individual piece of grass, telling himself that watching the grass grow was more important than dealing with Chad's objections. Chad only shifted and drew his attention from Ichigo to Renji; being the big guy he was sitting crisscross and trapped in between two people was probably not very comfortable. He heaved a sigh of relief when his large friend made no further attempt to bother him with the matter.

The day was dragging on particularly sluggish, and lunch was taking an incredibly long time to end. Furthermore, he was sick of the eyes glancing from their whispered conversations to his bandages and then back again, and even kids who he had no idea were stared and pointed at him shamelessly with abandon. Ichigo lifted a tanned hand to his face and brushed the bruise on the side of his face where Grimmjow had socked him, he was really and frankly tired of all the attention. Uryu seemed to be the only one who didn't care about him or his current fix.

The black-haired sewing enthusiast, though he would never admit that hobby openly, was picking at his sandwich with an almost disgruntled, finicky expression scrunched onto his fair-skinned face. He jumped a little when a sliver of light green lettuce fell from between the two slices of bread he poised in his slim, bony fingers. He took one hand from his lunch and self-consciously pushed his metallic glasses up the bridge of his nose, the glass had a glare for a few seconds before the senior dropped his arm and began to nibble at the sandwich once more. Ichigo tore his chocolate gaze from Uryu and to the gossiping girls at the other side of the circle.

Orihime was staring at him again, but as before when their eyes met she glanced away and back to Rukia quickly, a light pink blush dusting over her cheekbones. The girl was odd; Ichigo had caught her countless times just simply gazing at him. Since he refused to believe she had any romantic interest in him - he knew she did, but he just refused to believe so because it was weird to think of ditzy Orihime that way - and simply passed it off as nothing more than concern.

The bell rang; shrill and pronounced even to those who had chosen to dine outdoors. Everyone got up and began to start towards the school. Ichigo refused any help he was given, insisting that he could get inside the school's doors by himself. Which he did, after all, his legs were about the only thing on him that was left unscathed. He and Chad walked side by side silently, the rest of the gang behind them chattering and laughing away like the teenagers they were.

He caught sight of a head full of short, jet-black hair down just past the owner's neck. The individual turned, blank green eyes boring into Ichigo with little emotion, Ulquiorra seemed very out of place no matter where he was in his opinion, honestly, the guy looked like he belonged with the gothic kids who sat in the corner of the lunchroom glaring at people from far away and whispering amongst themselves. With his hands in his pockets he slowly shifted to the right, blocking the view of the male in front of him. Szayel was beside them, guarding the far left rather loosely, pink lips twisted into a coy smile as he stared at Ichigo. The blue-haired senior peered over Ulquiorra shoulder with an angry glare sent straight towards Ichigo. Those spiteful, blue eyes were unsettling as they burned holes in his confidence to walk down the hall. He walked faster, lifting his head forward to avoid the stares that followed him.

As he arrived at the door of his classroom he ran into Keigo, who was holding a small white slip in his hand. His hair was tousled and his eyes were dull and tired. Shoulders slumped forward and his posture horrid, he shoved the piece of paper at the tangerine-haired peer and then returned to the inner most part of the classroom where his seat was located. The boy looked at his friend in sympathy, he must not have gotten any sleep the night before. Brown gaze cast down at the slip in his hand.

_'Please send Kurosaki Ichigo to the infirmary as soon as possible.'_

Ichigo snorted, folded the note into his pocket, and turned around to walk back through the dreaded hallway, praying to God he didn't see Grimmjow and his flock of retards. Harsh as it sounded, the group didn't deserve to be considered valued members of society, period. Ichigo arrived at the nurse's station with no trouble at all, rejoicing inside that Grimmjow, Ulquiorra, and Szayel had finally decided to go to class.

He opened the door slowly and he could have sworn his heart soared when he saw the very familiar person seated in the chair at the desk. The pale-skinned man was looking intently at a single piece of paper, an ink pen held in one hand with his other tangled in snow white hair. Ichigo could faintly see the man's gray clad leg bouncing up and down, shoe clicking against the ground each time the sole hit the floor, this was most likely a nervous habit of his. He wore a black dress shirt, three buttons peeled away and revealing a patch of his smooth chest, and light gray slacks. Different attire then when he first saw him. He looked extremely transfixed in his work, brows furrowed with his fingers now massaging his scalp fervently.

Ichigo cleared his throat. "Um, you wanted to see me…?"

Shiro snapped his head up from the paper and gave him his alluring smile that he always did, bright yellow eyes sparking to life as he tore away from the assumed boring paperwork and stood up to greet his former patient. "I wanted t' see if ya were doin' alright." He stated. Ichigo blinked almost gratefully and took a seat on the examining table. The silvery-haired man scratched the back of his head and sighed, shaking his head to and fro slightly. "Ya look terrible, Ichi." Shiro said with a frown, and motioned for Ichigo to remove his shirt. The carrot top unbuttoned his uniform and slid it gently from his shoulders and into a crinkled pile beside him. Shiro's molten eyes raked over his bare torso with a disdainful glint in them. Ichigo felt unsettled by the different emotions flitting across the nurse's face, and was very confused to why the man felt so strongly about his situation anyway.

Shiro outstretched one pale hand and pressed it against the boy's bruised flank, his fingers trailing butterfly touches over the tender flesh. It had worsened in coloring; purple at the center with a faint yellow around the edges. Ichigo twisted when the man silently asked him to let him see his back. He heard something close to a growl build in Shiro's throat as he traced his hand around the terrifyingly violet, red and sickening yellow bruise that stretched over his lower back from when Grimmjow had kicked him three or four times. He couldn't remember how many exactly, just that it hurt pretty badly. "They got worse." Ichigo offered, his voice bridging on making the statement a question.

The nurse sighed again, this one sounded more angry then the first one; the air escaping his parted lips catching on his throat and almost making the simple sigh sound like a demonic hissing noise. Yellow eyes moved to his bandaged shoulder. "How's your shoulder doin'?" Ichigo winced slightly when the wound throbbed a few times, as if it knew they were talking about it. "Could be… a _hell_ of a lot better. Damned thing needs to heal soon." He grumbled with a pained grunt as he rolled his injured shoulder for emphasis.

Shiro looked at the teen in slight amusement at his use in curse words and chuckled. The orange-haired student shot him a disapproving glare and pouted. "Laughing at me now?" He snapped, though he let humor dance in his deep chocolate eyes. The man giggled, Ichigo was going to officially dub the sound a 'man-giggle', he wasn't sure what else to call it. It didn't sound girly, but it was still a… well, giggle. The man only smiled at him and then turned away, looking as though he were searching for something on his desk. "Ge' your shirt on, kid. Everything's all right wit' your wounds, they seem like they're gonna heal well. Bu', feel free t' come see me if ya think they're getting' infected or anythin'." He spoke while turned away from the boy. Ichigo threw his shirt back on, or rather, slowly slipped it over each arm with care; his shoulder would pay if he just shoved himself back into it.

While he began to slip the clear disks through the small slits in his uniform, Shiro had turned his attention back to him. Ichigo looked up, the nurse's face was serious this time, and the remainder of the mild humor they had shared earlier had dispersed. "Le' me protect ya, Ichigo." Shiro said definitely. The senior blinked at him blankly in minor astonishment; where had that come from? Hadn't he told him that he could take care of himself back at his apartment yesterday? "I don't know what you mean." He lied; he knew exactly what the nurse meant. The man narrowed his eyes, and Ichigo knew then he had detected the fib. "Ichigo, I can't le' Grimmjow do what he did t' ya any more." The serious tone of his voice was killing the carrot top's ears. He didn't like it; he was already beginning to miss the light-hearted sound of the faculty member's earlier words. He really didn't like it; in fact, the whole serious talk was making quick work of his nerves. "I'll be fine, Shiro. I can take care of myself, honest." He ground out, half-annoyed, his eyes averted from Shiro completely.

He could see the other stiffen out of his peripheral vision, and could feel his neon gaze staring straight at him. Ichigo shifted and folded his arms over his chest self-consciously. The other let out a frustrated snort and shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks, fiddling with something that tinkled in one of the pockets as he stared up at the ceiling. The noise coming from the man's pocket caused Ichigo to chance a glance towards the man. His neck was bared to the boy, the expanse of pale flesh, which was unblemished and looked perfectly smooth in the artificial light, was just begging to be touched. Ichigo felt shameful for thinking that way as his eyes followed the curve where the man's neck and shoulder met, then back up and over the stubborn jaw line that was fixed taut beneath the skin. The nurse's jaw always locked when he was annoyed with something. As the bright-haired teenager continued to stare at him through the corners of his eyes, Shiro's head slowly came back down. His eyes were closed, as the boy had presumed they had been all along, but they opened as if he knew he was being stared at. Ichigo didn't look away, even though the moments of locking gazes with the white-haired male were indescribably intense. He didn't want to see that look again.

"I don' care if ya can or not, I'm gonna do it either way. I don' ever want t' see you in pain like this again." Shiro said, it sounded more like one of those promise/threat things. The boy was honestly a little scared of him at that moment. His stare was cold, black sleeves rolled up over his forearms with his hands balled into fists under the cloth of his pockets. He looked too intimidating. Shiro was practically a stranger to him! Sure, he'd basically saved his life, but Ichigo knew absolutely nothing about him and now he was snapping to Ichigo about how he was going to protect him and everything. Annoyance broke his fear almost immediately afterward. "Look, Shiro, I don't need your help. Just leave it." Ichigo retorted and stood up from his seat on the table.

The nurse flinched a little, but the student just pushed past him and headed for the door, but as soon as his tanned hand gripped the cold doorknob something tugged at his chest. What was this feeling? Ichigo couldn't place it. He began to slowly turn back around. Shiro was frozen in place, yellow eyes cast down to the floor. He looked… sad, hurt. The carrot top felt his heart sink further then it already had, but he just couldn't bring himself to say anything more, his mouth parted to speak but nothing came out. With a shameful sigh he opened the door and shut it behind him. The hallway looked empty enough, what with the exception of the tall, muscular teenager leaned against the bright, red lockers with his arms crossed. Ichigo had to take a double take before his breath caught in his lungs painfully. That sky blue hair against blood red and the scowl that creased over the older male's face indifferently, and those fierce, azure eyes that finally glanced towards him. Ichigo's heart rate sped up when the grimace on Grimmjow's face melted into that predator-like grin of his.

He suddenly felt sick.

Grimmjow practically jumped off the lockers he was slumped against, stalking towards Ichigo with a sort of arrogant air about him. He thought about going back into the nurse's office, but couldn't go back and face Shiro, which was out of the question in general. When the blue-eyed senior began to near too close to him he began to back away slowly. The corners of his enemy's mouth curved upward even more as he backed the slighter teenager straight into the lockers. Grimmjow propped his forearm on one side of the carrot top's head, leering at the teen. Ichigo shifted uncomfortably beneath Grimmjow's icy stare, which was somehow equally fiery. "What's up, brat?" That voice was cruel, mocking and his breath smelled strongly of peppermint. Ichigo glared at him, saying nothing, his lips pressed together in a hard line. Grimmjow growled a little, closing a few more inches of distance between them, their faces close. He felt a drop of sweat fall from the side of his forehead. "Looks like they patched you up good, Kurosaki." He commented, as if trying to make small talk.

Ichigo still glowered at the taller male, finally noticing that the other's nose was covered in some sort of bandages. Shiro must have broken his nose. "Get. Away. From. Me. Now." He said, voice low as he said each word firmly. The blue-haired asshole laughed, almost sounding like the cackle of a crazed hyena, his other hand pressing against the lockers closest to his right hip. His nose was mere centimeters from Ichigo's now. "Make me, you scrawny bitch." Grimmjow snarled at him.

_Shit. He's pissed now, great._ Ichigo thought with a helpless, inward sigh. He made a move to shove the heavier student away but the arm Grimmjow had near his cranium flashed and caught his wrist, slamming it into the locker that was behind him. He bit his lip as pain shot through his injured shoulder, the metal snapping right against the bone in his wrist as well. "Why do you hate me, Kurosaki?" He asked with another sick grin. Ichigo felt anger build in his chest, what the hell question was that?! He knew damn well why. "Because you fucking beat me up all the damned time, and not to mention you're a huge asshole." He spat with vengeance, his rage getting the better of him. The grip on his wrist tightened, making his fingers spread apart and twitch from the pressure.

Grimmjow's blue eyes blazed with fury and the hand near Ichigo's flank shot up and wrapped around Ichigo's throat, fingers digging into the skin before ripping off the bandage that covered the laceration on his neck. Fear spiked Ichigo's heart and it skipped a beat. The wound had scabbed over and it was tinged red around the edge, and it stung a little when Grimmjow's rough fingers brushed over it. Ichigo grimaced at the annoying pain in his shoulder and glared daggers at his assaulter. The menace's lips were suddenly against his. Ichigo struggled, oh how hard he tried to rip free from the kiss, but Grimmjow had their mouths locked.

Blunt nails suddenly dug into his wound and tore straight through the scabbing. Ichigo gasped and arched his spine, giving a chance for the sadistic bastard to slip his tongue into his open mouth. Ichigo let out a groan of protest as his cut was brutally scraped and clawed at, ridding of the evidence that the thing had actually been healing. The wound was reopened now, bright, crimson liquid staining the collar of his shirt. Grimmjow broke away from the kiss, letting the teen catch his breath. Tears brimmed the edges of his chocolate eyes, threatening to spill over any second. The other was smiling as one of his blunt fingernails pressed into the shallow cut and ran along it. Ichigo couldn't help but scream for him to stop.

At that cry the door to the nurse's station burst open, the white-haired man scrambling out in a panic, his yellow eyes wide with alarm. The alarm changed to pure resentment. Grimmjow laughed from deep within his chest, and stroked the soft locks of Ichigo's tangerine-colored hair as if to soothe him. The carrot top wanted to vomit. The blue-haired student ran his nails down Ichigo's chest before planting a firm kiss to his captive's lips, and then released him completely. He sent a look at Shiro that said simply and purely, 'I told you so' and then began to walk down the hallway, his destination unknown to the two spiky-haired males.

Ichigo closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the burning sensation that spread over his neck quickly, like a fire. He could hear Shiro beginning to walk forward now and could practically feel him seething, but as he walked past Ichigo the boy caught his arm. The nurse whipped his neck around, gazing at the orange-haired teenager who was once again hurt. "Please don't… If you want to protect me then you'll have to be around to do it, which means not beating the shit out of a student and ending up in jail." He begged, looking near desperate. Shiro looked extremely torn, but he obeyed, loosening his muscles and falling back to look at Ichigo straight on. The orange-haired victim noted how hurt the man looked, and he was breathing heavily out of his nose as Ichigo watched his chest rise and fall. "Shiro, I-… I promise I'm fine, really, it's just a sc-" "I said I wanted t' protect ya, but you're so damn stubborn."

He shot an accusing glare at the bleeding student. "You should have turned right back and stayed in my damn office! He shouldn' be allowed t' do this t' ya, Ichigo, and I won't let him." Ichigo felt the annoyance return, the man was treating him like a baby! "I can take care of myself, I said! I don't need you to look after me!" He snapped back, index finger pointedly jabbing the nurse in the chest. Shiro went silent again, like before, in the infirmary. "I'm sorry, Ichigo. I jus'-… need t' protect you." The pale-skinned male's voice had returned to its normal volume and his eyes glanced downward again in shame. Well, fuck it all, now Ichigo felt like a complete dick for yelling. He wasn't sure what to say. He wanted to apologize and ask why the man wanted to protect him so badly, but once again he was at a loss for words.

He visited Shiro's office for the second time that day.

--

A cold front had moved in by the time school was out, bringing dark clouds fat with promised rain and the breeze grew very chilly. The teenage inhabitants left the school rubbing their hands up and down their arms and shivering, regretting that they had brought no jacket with them. No one loitered at the front steps like they usually did, everyone wanted to get out of the weather and back into their warm abodes. By the time Shiro had finished up what little work needed to be done in his office it had begun to drizzle. He stood at the entrance to the school with a scowl on his face, his features reflecting his obvious displeasure and exasperation. With a deep sigh he stepped out into the faint weather. _How can it be cold and rainin' in fucking August?_ He thought irately, the rain now drumming down on the previously warm asphalt in a steady, slight downpour.

As he past the corner of the building he heard a voice, and slowed his walking to a stop as he looked toward the source. Light blue hair dripping with rainwater, school uniform pulled taut around broad shoulders, one arm held up to an ear. Grimmjow was snapping angrily into the receiver of his cell phone, profanity rolling off his tongue in waves; the boy cursed, and he cursed a lot. The man deliberated his options, whether or not he should keep on going about his merry way to his car, beat the shit out of him, or eavesdrop on his conversation. Choices, choices… "Well, I don't know why the hell I'm being dragged into your shit." Grimmjow barked heatedly, the younger male's teeth snapping together and grinding. Well, someone was certainly pissed. It couldn't hurt to listen in to the conversation, after all, Grimmjow was half-facing a wall and hadn't noticed him yet.

"So _what_? It's not like I'm part of your dumbass-" The person on the other end must of cut him off, because a vein bulged in the well-built teenager's neck and his blue eyes blazed in silent fury. Shiro leaned against the corner with a hand poised on his hip, watching the rebellious student fist up his hand and drive the side of it into the red brick wall before him. "I'm going to do what ever the hell I want. I don't want to be a part of your fucking games!" There was a moment where Grimmjow was silent once more before- "Go fuck yourself." Shiro raised his eyebrows, whomever he was speaking to was obviously not winning any points.

"I'm hanging up now."

Pause.

"You heard me, I said I'm fucking hanging up now!" Grimmjow snarled, snapping his phone shut and hurling it into the neighboring wall, plastic and metal pieces flying off from the impact. He was panting from the assumed adrenaline rush he got from screaming at someone via phone call and laid his forehead against the hard bricks, thunder sounding in the distance. Shiro cleared his throat over the sound of the steady rainfall. "Ya know, they go' those anger management classes nowadays." He mocked from his 'hiding spot', a smirk tugging at his pale lips. "I'll pay for it if you'll go." The young man turned towards him slowly, that anger almost completely swept away and replaced by a sadistic smile. For some reason, that annoyed him, that cocky grin and those smug eyes glinting dangerously in the poor light. "And a hel-fucking-lo to you to, asswipe." Grimmjow growled at him.

With that smile still spread across his face, the nurse slipped his hands into his pockets and began to casually advance on his adversary. The other held his ground, like a feline his lips curled up to reveal his white teeth and the muscles in his arms pulsed beneath his skin as he flexed them. This kid had beaten, touched, and even kissed _his_ Ichigo. He couldn't recall when he had started using possessive pronouns. Shiro stopped when he was arms-length apart. "Thought I told ya not t' hurt 'im, bastard." The man said smoothly, his stand becoming hostile; legs slightly apart with his elbows bent and hands balled up into decisive fists. Grimmjow only snorted. "I obviously didn't do what you said, did I, freak?" He leered with another grin slapped onto that arrogant face of his. The man pursed his lips, the corners then drawing back to reveal his own pearly whites. His bangs were slicked to his forehead, black dress shirt clinging to his sculpted muscles. His golden eyes seemed to glitter deviously as he peered at the other through the rain. He held out one hand and made a 'come hither' motion.

"Jus' askin' for trouble, weren't ya?"

* * *

**A/N: Originally, there was a huge fight scene at the end of this between them. Buuuut, I cut it out because it was unfinished and I needed to feed my readers' thirst. So, sorry if anyone was expecting a fight. They fought, but there will be no official scene for it.**

**Thanks for reading!(:**

**I'm listening to, Calling To The Night by Natasha Farrow. Go listen. And yes I like Metal Gear Solid.**


	5. Chapter 5

**It's about time for an update, yeah? I'm so sorry for the wait. I've been so terribly busy.**

**Sorry, it's shorter than usual;**

* * *

Caffeine was, and would always be one of his favorite drugs. The sudden jittery burst you get moments after indulging yourself was excellent, superb. He, in short, really needed caffeine and there was a local coffeshop close to his apartment complex, so a short walk wouldn't hurt him. He dressed casually; a dark gray shirt with some sort of graphic design on it and a pair of semi-tight black jeans. No one would suspect him of being a nurse for the Karakura High, no one ever did suspect and albino with neon yellow eyes. It was a Saturday morning; the coffeeshop had to be busy. That was mostly why Shiro avoided the place; not because the espresso tasted horrid, but because of the crowds. Good coffee meant more people. He whistled as he walked, outstretching an arm to pull open the door to the shop. The man searched the interior suspiciously; there was hardly a soul present! Only the exception of the few workers, and the occasional man and woman reading the paper and sipping at their drinks; lucky him.

Shiro waltzed up to the counter and gazed up at the menu provided, mentally cursing the thing for having so many damn things to choose from. A young, dark-skinned woman appeared to serve him, her hair a lovely shade of purple and tied in high ponytail. Lovely, driven with the nail of sarcasm and translated into; odd. The workers hear were all that way, having some crazy hairdo or extravaganza of piercings. She smiled at him, face young and attractive with black eyeliner around each cat-like eye. An odd person indeed. "Can I get you something, sir?" She purred from her spot beyond the counter, staring at him almost fondly. He sighed and shifted his yellow eyes to her in a bored fashion. "Do ya got any.. plain ol' coffee? I don' like none of these fancy names ya got goin'." Shiro said, drawing out a five dollar bill from his front pocket. She laughed at him smoothly, amusement glittering in her eyes. She bent over a little; her breasts peeked out of her shirt slightly, showing off her cleavage as she looked up at him from under her thick eyelashes. "Yes, we have that too, sir." He snorted disdainfully; her flirting was positively failing to arouse him in anyway. Sure, she was pretty, but he had another person in mind for that sort of thing. "Then give me a large normal coffee." The albino said and tossed the five on top of the counter. She smirked and snatched the bill away whilst working the cash register. "That'll be-" The woman began, but he cut her off. "Keep th' change." He said shortly and backed off towards the near wall to rest against it.

A puff of air rolled off his tongue as he sighed softly, eyes lazily watching as the young woman prepared his coffee. The past two days had been nothing but chaos, meeting Ichigo and immediately becoming fond of the boy, having to deal with that prick that kept beating the shit out of his Ichigo. White arms crossed over his dark gray clad chest, fingers pinching into the skin they rested upon; there was no reason to get upset about that now. The corner of his pale lips twitched upward in a smirk; he had made sure Grimmjow wouldn't be able to harm the tangerine-haired student for a long while. Somewhere in his head worry began to settle, worrying on how Ichigo was doing at that very moment, wondering if he was okay.

"One normal coffee!" The cashier's teasing voice snapped him from his thoughts, and he pushed himself off the wall. He walked up to the counter, taking the warm cup in his hand. The purple-haired woman looked as though she were about to make another go at flaunting herself to the albino, but he immediately turned around, looking for a place to sit. Shiro found a cozy-looking chair in the very back corner of the café, and eased himself into it, slouching into the cushion of the seat. His golden eyes became half-lidded as he took a lazy sip from his espresso, the hot liquid searing his taste buds with its strong flavor and heat.

In all honesty, he longed to see Ichigo next Monday. He couldn't understand what made him like the kid so much, and, if he didn't know any better, he would have figured it was one of those 'love at first sight' things. Regardless, he was very protective and fond of dear Ichigo, almost to the point where slight possessiveness lingered in his thoughts. Jealousy often crept through him when he saw the student with another girl, or another man for that matter. Who would have thought two days would completely focus his love interest onto one person! It was beyond him, really. He never had been a fan of commitment, and this was the first time he felt like his relationship with Ichigo was going to become more than that. At least, he would make sure it became more than that. He tangled a hand into his silky white hair, scratching at his scalp in thought as he took another cautious sip at the still-hot beverage. Footsteps echoed as they neared his seated position in the chair.

"Shiro..?" A warily poised voice reached his ears.

Gold eyes met bright ochre.

There he stood, bright shock of orange hair sprinkled with the sunshine that leaked in through the windows, most likely just recently washed, his brown eyes staring curiously and blinking at the albino while some kind of iced drink was held in one of his tanned hands. He felt a crooked grin crease his lips, trying to hold in his sudden burst of excitement to see the teen here, of all places. "Good mornin', Ichigo." Shiro greeted him simply, though he would never fully show the satisfaction that bubbled in his insides. Ichigo looked hesitant, and then alarm seemed to make his eyes widen. "What happened to you?" He questioned wonderingly. The albino was confused for a few moments before he followed Ichigo's gaze to his own collarbone. Bandages wound around his shoulder, and underneath his shirt, they stretched across part of his chest and then down his ribs. The boy must have also noticed the nasty bruise that was painted across his handsome jaw line. Brief memories of his fight with Grimmjow flashed in his mind, making his wounds sting, and he eyed the wrist that didn't hold his coffee.

_Pain flared across his torso, as the blue-haired senior's blade carved into his defined muscles. A snarl of defiance and agony ripped free from his throat, and he writhed beneath the strong male's grip. The shoulder that wasn't being held down moved his arm forward, nailing Grimmjow in his chin. The younger one retreated, the knife slipping from his grasp and clinking to the concrete, hissing in pain as he displayed his mouth whereas inside his tongue had been accidently bitten when he punched him and was dribbling blood over his lips. Shiro's chest and ribs burned profusely, blood welling from the semi-deep laceration and darkening his ripped, already black shirt with crimson. One hand held onto his laceration, the red liquid seeping through and onto his paper white skin. His eyes blazed with molten fire through the rainfall that still persisted, breathing heavily, but steadily, through his nose. Once Grimmjow had finally stopped moping over his tongue he lunged for the nurse, hand already balled into a tight fist. His limbs told him to move, and though his reaction was slow, he finally managed to make his feet go to work. Too late though, the attacker's fist caught the side of his jaw just right, making him stumble to the side, clenching his aching torso and wincing in obvious pain. Though he seemed far beyond beaten, Grimmjow was in no better shape, and was starting to become clumsy. A grin spread across his face, and he took his bloodied hand away from his wound, and went straight for the senior._

"It's nothin' fer you t' worry 'bout." Shiro quickly dismissed the question, and welcomingly patted the arm of the chair next to him. Ichigo looked suspicious, and also like he wanted to pry him more, but didn't argue. Instead, he gladly took a seat beside the albino, his own cold drink still poised in one hand. The nurse's bright gaze followed him, mesmerized by the senior's vibrant hair. It looked soft, and he wanted to pet the tangerine tresses, but his better judgment of course held him back. Ichigo took the straw gingerly between his pink lips, sucking up the toffee-colored liquid inside, releasing it shortly afterward. Shiro couldn't help but stare, not giving into his temptations when a bit off the coffee product dripped from his lips and down his chin, amusement glittering in his depths when the teen noticed this immediately and hurriedly wiped the small mess away with the back of his hand. He smirked. "Looks tasty." The albino commented. Ichigo looked taken aback at first, and Shiro could've of sworn he saw a faint blush taint his cheekbones, but the boy quickly rebounded. "It is." He muttered, taking another almost cautious suck at the straw. Shiro was a naturally curious fellow, so he reached out his hand, one still holding his espresso drink.

"May I try it?"

"If you want…"

Ichigo's arm reached over with the chilled java, and the nurse took it into his fingers, the digits becoming damp with the perspiration that leaked off the cup. Once the teen assumed he had a good hold of it, he let go. Almost instantly, a pain shot through the albino's wrist like a bolt of lightning, and he let out a pained hiss, his hand giving out completely and releasing the cup. It dropped to a small end table between them, brown liquid leaking from the lid. Ichigo gave a muffled squeak of alarm, quickly tipping the drink back upright, grabbing a handful of nearby napkins and pasting them to the mess. "Shiro, why did you- wait, are you okay?" His brown eyes flooded with undeniable concern as the older male cradled his wrist with his other hand, his own drink conveniently having stayed perfectly vertical on the arm of his chair. Shiro growled, taking hold of his wrist and jerking it swiftly to one side. It cracked, and the albino responded by gritting his teeth hard, a harsh release of air passing through his nostrils. "I forgot, my wris' wasn' in any condition t' be holdin' things." He said through clenched teeth, softly releasing his wrist and letting it rest in his lap. Ichigo looked almost panicked, sitting on the edge of his seat. "D-did you just put your wrist back into place?" He asked, eyes wide with shock. Shiro couldn't help grin, raising his injured wrist and waving it feebly. "Jus' then it re-broke itself, so, I s'pose I did, or rather I re'ligned the bone."

Ichigo stared at him for several moments, eyes darting to the albino's fractured wrist in concern. "Tell me what happened to you." This time the boy had not framed his words in a question, but a demand.

_"Un-cle." He purred into the teen's ear, one foot placed on top of that sky blue head and the other holding down an elbow. One white hand trailed over to the other's, taking it by the palm. He carefully listened for Grimmjow's response, and when he said nothing he couldn't help but grin sadistically. With that shoe planted firmly on the senior's arm, he yanked and twisted harshly, yellow eyes glinting with sudden cruelty. He heard a unwilling cry free itself from the younger male's throat as something beneath Shiro's foot sprang loose, the bone in his elbow popping out of its socket. "Say uncle." He taunted a little more fiercely. Grimmjow was huffing angrily, and his body unconsciously shook from the pain. He looked torn, stubborn azure eyes staring up at the albino with spite. "Uncle!" He spat viciously, obviously defeated and not wanting anymore trauma done to his bones. A triumphant grin spread across his lips and the weight he was putting on the teen was lifted off, watching as Grimmjow used his uninjured arm to heave himself up. "Had 'nough yet, punk?" Shiro asked, his voice teeming with sarcasm as his hand went to the large wound that cut into his torso. Blood still gushed from the laceration, and he felt a little light-headed. Grimmjow chuckled darkly and rushed at him, faster than he had expected. As he moved to dodge, his shoe slipped on the slick concrete beneath and he fell backwards, crashing to the ground. He luckily caught himself before his skull smacked the concrete, the skin on his arms now torn by the rough surface. A heavy weight suddenly pressed down on his chest, putting pressure on the wound that was carved into his flesh there. He sucked in a startled, pained dose of air, glaring up at Grimmjow who had dug his knee sharply into the albino's chest. "Your turn; scream uncle." He growled, taking Shiro's hand and bending the fingers towards his arm with brute force. The albino did just that, a scream of anguish bellowing from him as his wrist snapped beneath the pressure._

A smile. "Didn't a tell ya not t' worry 'bout me, Ichi? M'only th' best nurse Karakura has ever seen, I can manage myself."

Pleased when the teen only gave him a disapproving glare, he took back his coffee and sipped at it like before. The liquid had become more tolerable, to which he gave an even bigger gulp of his steamy drink before looking at Ichigo. "You were right though, tha' stuff was awfully yummy." He informed the boy, watching as he simultaneously grabbed his chilled espresso and drank a bit. The orange-haired senior nodded absently, grabbing the handful of soiled napkins and tossing them at a conveniently close trash bin.

"Yo, Ichi."

"Don't call me that." Came the sour reply.

"Wanna go to th' park?"

"Er, why?"

"Why not? It's a nice place t' relax."

Ichigo looked timid at first. "Sure." He finally said, slurping up the very last of his drink and throwing the remains away. Shiro couldn't help but grin, handing over his half-finished coffee for the boy to toss as well. They both stood, and together they left the café. He had chosen the park because it was extremely close; in fact, just down the sidewalk and across the road. He could see the small forms of children bouncing happily about the playground, and people walking along the artificial path that snaked through the whole park. His golden eyes were drawn to a couple sitting serenely beneath the shade of a tree, both chit-chatting together affectionately, their fingers intertwined together. The albino huffed in a frustrated way, tearing his molten gaze from the two as jealousy crept into his heart. They walked in silence to a little tan bench that loomed before them, the males both sitting, Shiro making sure he wasn't set too far away from the boy.

"Ah, isn't today nice, Shiro?" He shot a curious look at the carrot top, surprised by the upbeat tone of his voice, but welcomed it regardless. "Fer th' time bein' it is, it's gonna get real damn hot later. At leas' that's what th' weather dude said." The nurse replied; taking in a deep breath as a fresh breeze was carried towards them, catching a whiff of the teen's scent. It smelled almost fruity, and he couldn't help laugh as he watched the boy's orange hair dance in the wind. "Ne, Ichi, ya smell like strawberries. Are ya tryin' to be th' definition of irony or somethin'?" He inquired humorously, watching the senior's cheeks heat up self-consciously to a light pink. "Shut up. We didn't have any other shampoo in the house except my little sister's." Ichigo glowered, eyes averted from Shiro's mocking ones.

The albino snickered, lazily propping his arm on the back of the bench, his fingers reaching out to gently trail along the back of his companion's neck, feeling the bandages there. Ichigo visibly twitched at the feeling. "What are you doing?" He asked, an involuntary shiver crawling up his spine when the other's fingernails grazed his tanned flesh. Shiro ignored him, fingertips trailing along the junction between his neck and shoulder. "How's your wounds?" Ichigo swallowed, still looking straight ahead rigidly. "Th-they're healing." He replied, his cheeks more rosy than before. Shiro's hand dropped with a smirk, letting it dangle between the two. "That's good."

Ichigo fiddled with hem of his shirt nervously, chewing on his bottom lip. Shiro stared hungrily, watching the boy's white teeth gnaw at his lip tentatively. If he didn't know better, he would have thought the kid was purposely taunting him. He gave an impatient growl and gripped the Ichigo's chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger. He stared into those surprised ochre orbs for a few nanoseconds before pressing his pale lips to the senior's. A startled squeak sounded in the back of Ichigo's throat as Shiro began to skillfully massage his lips against the pink one's, catching a laugh that threatened to leave his mouth when the carrot top responded very shyly. He slowly removed his grip from Ichigo's chin, moving his hand to the boy's heated cheek and caressing it softly with his thumb as he lapped at his bottom lip, asking for entrance. Ichigo whimpered as he parted his mouth, Shiro immediately thrusting his tongue into the warm cavern, giving an appreciative moan at the sweet vanilla flavor of the boy's drink that tickled his taste buds. He made sure to explore every inch of that tantalizing mouth, smiling into the kiss right before he pulled away. Warm brown eyes fluttered open, looking into his own golden ones.

With that cute, bright blush still splashed across his face, he brushed the albino's hand away from his cheek. He turned away from him and huffed. "Y-you really need to properly fix your wrist." Shiro smirked again lazily, lifting his non-fractured hand and threading his fingers through the soft tangerine locks, ruffling them. "Ya seem awfully worried 'bout me." He commented, snickering when the teen swatted his arm away and grimaced. "I'm not! I just think you would have some common sense to fix a broken bone is all." The boy retorted, and stood up. The nurse crossed his legs and slouched further on the bench.

"_Liar_."

Ichigo didn't reply to that. "I have to leave." He stated simply. "See you around." Without waiting for Shiro's good-bye, he walked away. The albino licked his lips, savoring the taste Ichigo had left him with.

--

The shower door parted, steam rushing out in all directions. A white hand reached out and grabbed the nearby towel that was folded neatly on top of the counter. The albino sniffed, placing the towel on his head and rubbing it his fingers into the silvery locks, attempting to dry his spiky hair. He tugged the towel around his waist, and with practiced ease he secured it there. Shiro padded over to the mirror, staring at his reflection. That long, red laceration was still there, carved into his toned muscle. With his good hand, he traced a finger along it, remembering with a sour look how much it had stung when the spray of hot water ran over it. Without another glance he walked out of the bathroom, down the hallway and into his bedroom. Earlier on, he had laid out his boxers, which now a black shape settled on top of it. Shiro couldn't help but smile, and walked over to his bed where the little kitten lay, curled up contently on his underwear. He reached out and petted the small creature's spine, the little cat arching to the touch and giving a little mew. "Yer so cute." He murmured to his pet, moving a finger to its chin where he scratched the fur there. A rumbling purr came from the kitten, closing its blue eyes in satisfaction.

He finally picked it up, holding it in the palm of his hand and letting it nuzzle his chest, butting its cheekbone against his pale flesh. With a chuckle he carefully set on his floor, watching it sit patiently beside him. He chucked the towel that clung to him off, swiping his boxers, but not before carefully looking over them. They were hot pink; a joke Kaien had thought was funny when he had bought them one year as a birthday present. Shiro smiled fondly at the memory, remembering how Shiba, drunker then hell, put them on over his pants and proudly declared that he would wear them to work. The albino slipped them on, and then picked his little kitten back up, lying back on his bed and setting it on his stomach. The nameless creature settled with another loud series of purrs, little tail folded over its black nose.

Shiro sighed, folding his arms behind his damp hair -keeping a mindful of his fractured wrist-, and stared up at his ceiling blankly. His heart ached a bit, images of the day playing back in his mind. He could still taste Ichigo on his lips, and smell that sweet, fruity scent of his bright hair. He swore he had developed a severe case of separation anxiety in mere hours.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey there! Lookie what I got for all you anxious readers on the edge of your seat...**

**An update!**

**That's right, inspiration struck me randomly whilst I was simply sitting around and listening to some music. I went to look at my reviews for this story and they warmed my heart so much I had to update for you all. It touches me that I've got so many kind reviews for this story. **

**Keep in mind this is kind of short, comparing to the others, but still holds quality. Enjoy!**

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"Hey!" The tangerine-haired elder sibling screeched as a spongy glob of yellow scrambled egg was flung against his temple, he whipped his neck around to glare at his attacker, coming eye to eye with a haughty little sister of his. She sniggered in triumph, loading up her fork with more egg-ammo. Her gray eyes glittered with cynical intent, as she released her grip on the fork and sent the scrambled mush straight for her older brother. He flinched visibly as it smacked into the middle of his forehead. "Karin, knock it off!" He growled, jabbing his own fork in her direction. She dropped her utensil and gave him an innocent look, the silverware clattering against the ceramic dish before her. "Don't be such a baby." Karin leered with another smirk. The shorter of the sisters poked her head out from around the kitchen archway, with a spatula in her hand. "Guys, please stop fighting." Yuzu piped, and as soon as she did, a ding resounded throughout the two rooms, and she let out a squeak before dashing back out of sight.

Ichigo huffed grumpily, and lifted himself from his seat, haphazardly pushing the chair back towards the table. "Tell dad I'm leaving." He muttered to no one in particular before grabbing his school bag from the back of his chair and slinging it over his shoulder. The orange-haired teenager scurried out the door; he would be early to school, but it was no big deal, he had wanted to break away from his family before they ruined his slightly pleasant morning.

The sun shone happily in the blue sky, washing the boy in its golden rays. Ichigo squinted; going from artificial light to pure solar light was a difficult transition at first. It was really bright. He shielded his eyes with a hand, peering up at the heavens to watch little puffy white clouds float slowly on their merry way. With a sigh, he began to walk down the sidewalk, half-hoping to run into someone of his crew. Most likely Chad, or Orihime and Rukia. Mostly because they lived close, and they were always as early as him, if not earlier every school day.

As he walked along, he noticed his muscles had a dull ache to them, and memories came rushing back to him. The bruises on his body were healing fairly well, and so was the cut on his neck. Perhaps the injury that still hurt the most had to be his shoulder, were the puncture wound was still slowly festering on his skin. It was far from infected, but it was just taking longer to recover more than Ichigo would have hoped it to. His mind immediately wondered if he should go and pay a visit to the infirmary. Then his heart leaped when he thought of just who would be seated at the front desk. Shiro would be there, and would happily oblige to looking over his wounds. He remembered Sunday morning, at the coffee shop, and at the park. Shiro had… kissed him. He wasn't going to say he had liked it, but then again he hadn't hated it. The senior's cheeks heated slightly at the thought, remembering how gentle the nurse had been, and how sensually his tongue had-

"Ichigooo~!"

Startled out of his thoughts, Ichigo turned to meet the voice, eyes resting on a mop of neatly styled neon green hair. Mashiro bounded up to him, bug-eyed, white sunglasses fitted atop the bridge of her petite nose. As she stood in front of him, her small hand came up to tilt her sunglasses up to stare at him with her hazel eyes. Ichigo was prepared to ask her what was the matter, but she spoke before him. "Hey, Berry-tan, you look kinda flush. You feelin' alright?" His classmate inquired curiously. The boy grunted dismissively, before rubbing his nose as if to rid of his apparent blush. "I'm fine." He replied, and looked over her to see Orihime and Rukia trailing close behind. Rukia had her hands poised on her slim hips, giving him another hard stare, while the long-haired girl beside her just smiled timidly in his direction. He laughed nervously. "Well, why don't we get to school then..?" He suggested, wanting desperately to get out of Rukia's stern indigo gaze.

The four began to set off together this time. Orihime talking about some concoctions she'd conjured up for dinner the night before, while Mashiro began chattering something about her new puppy with Rukia being astounded at the cuteness of the tiny creature when the bright-haired senior pulled out her cell phone to show them. They ran into Chad and Renji already milling about the school grounds with Mizuiro and Keigo. They all greeted each other enthusiastically, with Ichigo, Chad, and Renji remaining 'too cool' for such enthralling actions so early in the day. Uryu finally joined them from his seemingly comfortable spot rested against an Oak tree with a book propped neatly in his hand. With the whole gang reunited, they made their way to the entrance.

Standing in their normal spot, littered amongst the steps to the entrance was Grimmjow's flock. Ulquiorra was leaned against the railing, emotionless green gaze carelessly snapping to the approaching group of seniors. Szayel was giggling at something the creepy, long-haired Nnoitora next to him had said, but the two went quiet as the melancholy of the three made it apparent that the orange-haired student was breezing toward them. Three? Ichigo's eyes searched for that shock of bright azure hair, but the menace who had tormented him was nowhere in sight. They're glares seemed to pierce right through him as he shuffled past them quicker than he would have liked. Where was Grimmjow? Not that he really cared, but this had been the second day that he was absent. He was really starting to wonder where the blue-haired ruffian had wandered off to. His eyebrows crinkled as he tried to think of something that may hint towards such an absence.

_"… He shouldn' be allowed t' do this t' ya, Ichigo, and I won't let him."_

Realization dawned on him suddenly as he remembered Shiro's words clearer than day. Had the nurse really taken care of his Grimmjow problem, and… how exactly had he done it? He remembered the rage that fueled the owner's molten eyes when the older senior had walked off that day, after hurting Ichigo once again. He swallowed, debating whether to go confront the nurse right then or not, but as the group passed by the nurse's office; he caught a glimpse of white through the open door and couldn't bring himself to do it. He really didn't want to know the answer at that moment. To be honest, he really didn't think he could handle facing the nurse right then. Not only because he was afraid of the answer he was seeking, but also because he had locked lips with that charming man, and he was personally not prepared to stand awkwardly before Shiro.

He kept close to his group as they all trekked towards their classroom. Keigo and Mizuiro split and said their goodbyes to the rest of the gang, as they had been switched out their homeroom and into a different one. Uryu branched off as well, probably going to meet with some ridiculous book or sewing club he was a part of. Ichigo and the remnants of their group waltzed into the near empty classroom. Teenagers were milling about the desks, and the teacher was nowhere in sight.

He watched as the raven-haired girl of their posse fished out Orihime and Mashiro to go to another part of the classroom. As Ichigo leaned against his own desk, he could practically feel every glance they threw at him. He knew they were gossiping about the shape he was in; after all, bandages could still be seen around his neck, and beneath his shirt were the ones that wrapped tight around his healing shoulder along with the near-healed bruises that painted his toned torso. More unwanted attention.

The senior tried to focus his attention on Renji who was telling a story about his weekend, and also adding how he had spent a full day with Rukia, which he seemed unconditionally pleased about. He never admitted nor denied it, but he truthfully seemed to like her. Maybe if they started dating Rukia would quit worrying about him so much, when had it ever been her business anyway? "… So then she beat me at my own game! She was so good at it, it was insane!" Then again, Ichigo really wanted to tune out the nonsensical jibber-jabber about Renji's crush. Spending time with someone you liked, yeah, he wanted to do that, but unfortunately he was too nervous to even speak to that person at that point in time.

What was he thinking? He didn't like Shiro like that. No way.

Maybe a little.

The teacher finally burst into the room, apologies blooming from her mouth in a messy stream. She began by announcing that she was taking up last night's homework in a good ten minutes, and for everyone who hadn't finished that they should get their tails into gear and finish it. Ichigo mentally cursed, he hadn't even remembered what they had done the past day, and last night he had just been exhausted so he had fallen asleep rather early. It wasn't like him not to get homework done, and the whole Shiro and Grimmjow situation was the cause of him missing a couple assignments. By then, everyone had taken their seats, some with papers ready in their hands, and others scribbling hurriedly on their own work. Ichigo sighed and crossed his arms over his desk and nestled his bright orange head into the crook of his elbow. He really didn't want to be at school.

_The room was dark and quiet, except for the flickering of a candle placed neatly on the wardrobe. Ichigo found himself shuffling towards the pale figure laid out on his bed, its eyes glittering and narrowed. He recognized the man, although he'd never seen him in nothing but his underwear. "Ichigo." Came the sultry purr from said male, and the carrot top's ears grew warm at the tone of voice used to summon him. He subconsciously followed the call, the mattress dipping beneath his weight as he crawled next to the albino. Shiro turned, his immaculate, white skin looking eerie in the warm candle light. Ichigo finally realized he too was only donned in a pair of boxers and whimpered audibly as the other's hand ran over his creamy thigh while the other rested on his jaw line. The man looked rather dashing in nothing but a pair of tight briefs and Ichigo felt his face heat up at the distinctive bulge between the albino's legs._

_"Ichigo." The voice this time was more demanding and he looked up to see Shiro's expression had changed from seduction to worry, concern._

_"Ichigo!" This time more demanding, and suddenly it felt as if someone was shoving his shoulder hard._

The teen woke up with a start, looking around wildly for the familiar setting of the dark bedroom, but instead he was greeted with the bright florescent lights of his classroom. He groaned in displeasure slightly and realized the small statured Rukia was staring at him worriedly. "Are you okay? You're flushed." She said and Ichigo shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, flinching when she put her petite hand to his face. "Goodness, you're warm." Rukia continued and looked up to their teacher, explaining to her that he needed to go to the infirmary. The carrot top moved his legs slightly out and stood just as she was suggesting that she escort him. "I'll go myself." He insisted, much to her dismay. The girl reluctantly took her seat as Ichigo left the room, averting the anxious stares of his other friends.

The walk to the nurse's office was slow as the student took his sweet time, dragging his feet along the linoleum as he was in no hurry to meet up with the man he just had a rather suggestive dream about. He felt feverish, but he denied himself permission to have one. The last thing he wanted to have to do was spend more time with Shiro; it would be the death of him surely if Grimmjow's beatings didn't get the best of him. At the thought of his adversary he made a mental note to confront the nurse about it.

Finally, and unfortunately, he arrived at the open door to the office. He peeked in cautiously and as always Shiro sat at his desk, tending to random paperwork. This time the tip of a black pen was being gnawed on anxiously by the pale-skinned nurse. He looked bored more than anything and he threw the writing utensil onto the desk and leaned backwards, his face coming up and then those bright golden eyes locking on Ichigo's position. Shiro smiled at him. "Come in, Mr. Kurosaki." Ichigo scowled at the joking formality and slid into the nurse's office, slipping the door to a close behind him subconsciously. He took a seat in one of the chairs wordlessly with the albino's gaze following him. "What d'ya need, kid?" Shiro prodded him, folding his hands beneath his chin and leaning forward interestedly.

The orange-haired teenager averted his gaze from the nurse. "I was sent here. My classmate said I felt warm to the touch." He explained, looking up only when the wheeled chair rolled backwards and Shiro stood up and clapped his hands together in a productive manner. "We'll get back 'ere and take yer temp' then." Ichigo followed the man a little ways to the back and sat on the examination table. He traced patterns on the wall until the man returned and approached him. Without instruction he motioned for Ichigo to turn his head to the side and the student obeyed. Unable to see, but only feel, the carrot top felt Shiro stick a cool instrument in his ear for a few seconds. It beeped and then was gone. "100.4; looks like ya got a good fever goin', Ichi." The silvery-haired man explained and went to put the tool back where he had brought it from.

Ichigo huffed; he had given up on forbidding the nurse from donning him a nickname. Shiro returned to stand in front of the teenager and his hands reached out. "I need t' check out yer neck, it'll only take a minute." He assured and carefully began to unwind the old bandages as the boy tilted his chin upward. He inhaled Shiro's scent, sighing inaudibly at the familiar sweetness of it. He glanced down a bit and noticed that Shiro was wearing his white coat today and he idly mused about it uselessly, finding himself gripping the edge of the examination table when the bandages slightly stuck to his neck wound. He heard Shiro make a noise of disapproval and stand back. "Fer some reason it ain't healin' quite right. I'll put somethin' on it tha' may help." He left and returned once more, rubbing some ointment on the infected wound and rewrapping new dressing around it. "I think ya should go on home, Ichi. Tha' fever won' just go away." Shiro warned as they both walked back to the front of the office.

The nurse bent over his desk once more, pulling the chair over with his foot so he could sit as he wrote the teenager a pass. Ichigo twiddled his fingers over the desk, about to speak but Shiro handed him the pass hurriedly. He muttered thanks and then lingered, much to the albino's surprise. "Somethin' else botherin' you?" He asked, moving from behind the desk to stand not a foot away from the edgy carrot top.

"What did you do to Grimmjow?" Ichigo asked slowly, looking at the albino nervously.

The nurse stiffened at that, and he guessed Shiro hadn't been expecting that one. Maybe he had. The albino said nothing for a long time, only taking his good hand – Ichigo had just remembered that the man had a fractured wrist – and beginning to unbutton the front of his coat, and then his dress shirt. The teenager gaped. He had seen Shiro shirtless, but then there was something ugly blocking pale expanse of smooth, chiseled muscle. A huge laceration, that had scabbed over crudely, stood stark against the white backdrop of Shiro's chest. The cut looked as though it had been considerably deep and he was surprised that the man hadn't had stitches, or even had it sewn up. He took a small step back in his shock, but Shiro stepped forward. "Grimmjow is in the hospital." The words hardly reached him, but when Ichigo confirmed them mentally his ochre eyes blazed with anger.

"What the _hell _did you do to him?!"

"Worse than he's done t' me." Came the casual reply and a shrug.

Ichigo balled up his fists. Of course he was furious! He had wanted Shiro to stay away from his blue-haired enemy, but of course, the nurse had to be the hero. _Had to be._ Grimmjow had torn him up left and right, but that doesn't mean a grown man can beat up a minor, even though Grimmjow was probably over the age of eighteen. Still, it meant that Shiro could go to jail if Grimmjow told authorities what had happened. The whole reason he felt so infuriated was the thought of losing the nurse. Wait, that couldn't be right, how did he develop such attachment to this reckless albino? "You…" Ichigo trailed off angrily and turned away from Shiro, who had held his arms out. The man's hand fell on his shoulder and he tensed. "Listen t' me. I had t' do what I thought needed t' be done, he jus' can't go beaten you up like dead meat anymore." Shiro tried to explain and Ichigo tried to ignore him. The nurse flipped him around, the teenager had small heated tears beading the corners of his eyes, to his surprise.

"You idiot! If Grimmjow talks you'll go to jail for sure, no questions asked!" Ichigo barked, one of the tears slipping down his cheek. Shiro frowned and squeezed the shoulder his hand was on. "I ain't goin' to jail, baby."

Both froze.

What the hell did he just say?

Shiro seemed to look as though he'd been caught with his hand down the cookie jar and he backed away. Ichigo gave him a weird stare. As if kissing him had been odd enough, now this; the way he said it. The teenager hated how it comforted him far more than he liked. Shiro turned to the side and began buttoning up his shirt and coat, his gaze fluttering downward. "Come back if ya need tha' wound redressed." He said plainly and turned to go back to his desk as Ichigo turned to leave the infirmary. As the boy's hand fell shakily onto the doorknob Shiro's voice interrupted his departure, "and Ichigo," The said student paused wordlessly, a nervous lump caught in his throat.

"Grimmjow wants ya t' visit him."

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**A/N: Pretty nifty, huh? Leave plenty of comments, and be polite! I'm really not very sure when Chapter 7 will roll around, unfortunately, but keep your fingers crossed.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, everyone! As you can see I've gained a new pen name and with that you are welcomed to call me Gingersnap or just Snap. Anyways, here is your chapter. Please enjoy and I do apologize for the wait. I'm really not into Bleach anymore so it's kinda hard for me to write this.**

**And thank you for all the reviews, favorites and story alerts!**

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_Beep, beep, beep, beep, bee-_

_Slam._

A hand came down on the alarm clock's snooze button, said hand groped around the contraption and found the off switch, guaranteeing the alarm wouldn't sound again. The covers shifted and the body within them turned and hid inside them. A smaller form stretched at the foot of the bed, small jowls splitting in an enormous yawn. The content, little creature plodded over to the snoozing man and let out a loud mewl. "C'mon… shut it." Came the groggy voice. The black kitten let out a louder cry. Shiro yawned in the middle of another protest, his body shuddering from the force. He sat up reluctantly and shook himself awake, his honey-brown eyes squinting at his small pet. "Yer so needy, kitty." He grumbled and took the kitten in his hand as he got up from the bed, holding it against his flank as he shuffled out of his bedroom.

Into the kitchen with kitty in tow, he one-handedly made himself a mug of black coffee and then set his pet on the countertop as he took tentative sips, the cruel liquid burning his lips. He made kitty her own breakfast and then wandered back to the bedroom where he began to sift through his drawers, pulling out his needed clothes for the day. When finally dressed, with a more quick pace then when he first woke, he went to the bathroom and began his routine of brushing his teeth and hair and using the toilet. He flushed, washed his hands and found himself back in the living room. The place was quiet, kitty was curled up on the couch, and he could even hear some morning traffic in the distance. Then his cell phone rang, and he started a bit, before cursing mentally at his jitteriness and then grabbing for his phone on the coffee table. He read the caller I.D. and scowled at the digital numbers and the name above them.

"Aizen." Shiro breathed in an annoyed fashion, firmly pressing the ignore button and shoving the cell in his pocket. He caressed his kitty's head with his pale hand and bid the speechless animal goodbye, grabbing his white coat and slipping into it with practiced ease. His palm landed on the doorknob and he opened the door. His eyes landed on a well-dressed man with slicked back brown hair, and dark eyes. A phone was pressed to his ear and then a smile curved his lips. Shiro frowned and at that moment his own phone began to ring once more. The man snorted and snapped his cells shut. "I was just about to call again." He said smoothly, backing the paler man back into his apartment. "May I… come in?" He asked, shutting the door behind them. "Oh, sure, make yerself all comfy." Shiro spat, crossing his arms over his chest. The dark-haired man dipped his head sarcastically and then trailed over to the couch where kitty was.

"Your eyes are different; did you forget your contacts?" He sneered. Shiro blinked, remembering he had done just as said and stalked off to the bathroom. As he carefully placed his contacts into his eyes, the man leaned against doorway. Shiro's eyes glowed into the bright yellow they usually were and he shot a glare at the other. "Aizen, what th' hell? Ya can't jus' wait outside my door like a creep." He growled and pushed past said person, grabbing his keys and heading for the front door. Aizen seemed to materialize beside him and grabbed the doorknob before he could. "Dammit, I'm late fer work." Shiro shot him a dangerous look. "Your work has yet to begin though, isn't that right?" Aizen smiled smugly and the nurse stepped back a little. "Make it quick." He snapped and the other waggled his finger.

"First, take a check on that attitude." Aizen's smile still taunted him and his shoulders shook with irritancy. Shiro pressed his lips in a thin line and his teeth grinded together. "I'll have a ride for you in a few days," he paused and opened the door, showing the way out, "more or less, that is." Shiro ignored him and barged pass. Aizen followed in suit, shutting the door. "I don' even get a brief, do I?" He said, not turning to look at the other. There was a fine pause and Aizen's footsteps ceased a couple feet from him and his car. "No." Came his voice in no less than a purr. At that, Shiro popped open the car door and shoved his keys into the ignition, pumping the accelerator with his foot as he shut the door. He took a final glance at Aizen through his rearview mirror, but the man had already disappeared. Scowling, he picked up speed and headed for the school.

As he pulled into faculty parking the bell rang; even he could hear it from the near soundproof interior of his vehicle. He cursed and pushed out of the car, speed-walking to the front doors. He pushed open one and then made his way for his office, fumbling through his keys and then clicking the infirmary's lock to open. "Shiro!" The familiar voice sounded from behind him and he turned to meet the friendly face of his co-worker. Some tension from the earlier meet-up with Aizen faded, but something unsettling replaced it. "How are ya?" Kaien asked. "Could be a hell of a lot better." He said, but when his friend frowned he corrected himself, "but I'm okay." The principal nodded in acknowledgement. "You wanna go out later, maybe?" He looked hopeful and eager. Shiro felt bad all the sudden, those puppy dog eyes were enough for him. "Alrigh', alrigh'. I'll go out wit' ya." Kaien grinned big. "It's a date then!" He joked, giving a pseudo, charming wink and then leaving him there at the entrance to his office.

The day ticked by slowly. During lunch he stepped out for fifteen minutes and went to his car, pulling out a flask and taking a few plentiful swigs of whiskey. He wasn't very proud of it, but he was stressed and hell, it helped him out with that. After most of the kids' P.E. classes there was a commotion outside his office, which had him glancing up from some random paperwork which had turned into a tic-tac-toe game with himself. His eyes narrowed at the sight of familiar bright orange hair, but this time he hadn't come alone. He was guiding another teen he was plugging his nose and tilting his neck back. He rolled his eyes and got up from his chair with wheels. "What happened?" Shiro asked, grabbing a handful of tissues and replacing the boy's hand with them for him to hold. He kept a professional wall up between him and Ichigo and the other kid. "A ball hit him in the face." Ichigo answered and the nurse didn't even sneak a look at him. "M'sure he'll be fine. Th' sink is over there." He shoved a thumb towards said device and then plopped back down in his chair.

Ichigo showed his little friend to the sink and then came trailing back. Shiro didn't glance up from his papers. "How's th' wounds?" He asked nonchalantly. "Better, I think." The carrot top said, shuffling his shoe on the floor awkwardly. It was then the nurse realized that being in Physical Education, it was would be sensible to wear gym shorts of some kind. He dared to look up briefly. Bingo. Ichigo in shorts. The faintest trace of a smile flitted onto his lips. The running water from the bathroom would drown out anything his friend could hear. "Ya shave yer legs, Ichigo?" His question hung in the air for a while and he stared at the orange-haired senior with teasing, yellow eyes. The younger was scowling at him cutely. "Don't give me shit for that, I do it because it's more… well, you know, convenient." Ichigo tried explaining. Shiro snickered. "Nope, 'fraid I got no clue what ya mean." Shiro said plainly, returning to his papers. The other was about to say something more but then the water shut off.

The friend came out from the bathroom, sniffling. "I'm all good." He announced. "Thanks." Shiro shrugged. "It's what m'here fer." The boy tugged on Ichigo's shirt to usher him out of the office, but the carrot top stayed put. "Hang on, you go ahead, I got something to ask about." He said and his friend grinned. "Okay, but if it's about the butt rash-" Ichigo snarled. "Keigo, piss off!" Shiro couldn't help but snigger. After the friend left, Ichigo sat across from the desk. A wave of nostalgia hit Shiro as he looked up at the student. Except this time it involved gym shorts. "Wha' can I do fer ya, Mr. Kurosaki?" He asked. Ichigo folded his arms across his chest and slouched boredly. "I walked up to the hospital yesterday." He stated. Shiro arched one brow curiously, but said nothing. "I couldn't do it, I didn't want to see him" Ichigo said quickly, like he had just confessed a secret. The pale-haired man leaned back in his chair, staring at the other with a calculating gaze. "So?" He drawled. Ichigo looked at him in a pissed off manor. "Well, what the hell does he want to see me for? All he's done is beat the shit out of me." Shiro shrugged indifferently. "Hell if I know, an' if I did, I'd let ya know."

"What a big help you are." Ichigo muttered, slouching more. "Yer so mean to me, after all I've done…" Shiro trailed off in fake hurt. The boy rolled his brown eyes and stood up. "I need to get back to class." He said, making his way to the door. Shiro narrowed his eyes. "I'm leavin'." The nurse said evenly. He paused at his advance on the doorknob, turning his neck, but Shiro could only see the profile of his face. "What?" Ichigo asked, Shiro catching the hint of surprise and confusion in his voice. The nurse stood from his chair, shouldered out of his white coat and then walked over and opened the door to his office. "C'mon, let's walk." Ichigo hesitated. "Don' worry, puss. I got the power of hall passes, go on." With an annoyed grunt, Ichigo obeyed and side by side they walked out the school doors. Getting a few feet about the premises, Ichigo spoke, "what do you mean by leaving?"

"Just th' way it sounds, Ichi." Shiro stated, digging in his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. The other blinked at him in shock. "I didn't know you smoked." The pale man then produced a lighter from his hand and flicked it, holding it up to the end of the cig protruding from his lips. Ichigo watched as it glowed and then the man put the pack and lighter back into his trouser pocket. He took a drag from it and then exhaled. "I quit a few months back, but th' stress from my work brough' me back to three or four a day." Shiro explained and Ichigo chuckled slightly. "I didn't know being a school nurse was so stressful." He said teasingly. "It's not." Now the little strawberry looked confused. "That's what m'gonna tell ya 'bout." He paused and stopped walking, Ichigo doing the same. "I'm goin' away fer a while. Business-related stuff." Shiro told him.

"A nurses' board meeting?" Ichigo questioned. Shiro laughed, taking a few puffs off his cigarette for that remark. He exhaled smoke. "Somethin' like that." The nurse smirked. Ichigo sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Well, whatever, why should I care?" The student grumbled, averting his eyes from Shiro. The paler of the two shrugged and took another drag. "Ah, I jus' figured ya might." Shiro said and looked off past the parking lot and into the street. His eyes followed a shady looking black car, no longer paying attention to what the strawberry was saying. The vehicle made a sharp turn into the school parking lot and then Shiro's heart jumped. "_Shit_." He said and flicked his cigarette from his fingers. "What?" Ichigo asked, confused. The man dug his hand into the back of his trousers, coming into contact with metal as he wrapped his fingers around the pistol and he undid the safety on it. "Shiro, what're you-"

"Shut up, Ichi, just be quiet an' come behind me a little." He ordered. The boy seemed to shocked to disobey. The black vehicle skidded to a halt in front of them. The tinted windows revealed nothing and then two doors opened, both revealing black clad men. Aizen was the first he identified. "Ah, young love, but doesn't this make you a pedophile?" The man sneered and Shiro growled low in his chest. "What're ya doin' here, prick? You said a few days." The nurse stared at Aizen warily. "More or less." The dark-haired man corrected him and stepped over casually to him, the other suited individual following with a very visible gun in his hands. "They've moved to a location that's too good to miss. We want you to come with us, now." Aizen's eyes landed on Ichigo and he smiled. Shiro inched further in front of the boy and brought his pistol out from the back of his trousers. "No need to get violent, Shiro. We just want you to get the job done." He said, holding his hands up in mock innocence. Shiro's finger still covered the trigger. "And don't worry; you can bring your girlfriend too." Aizen said and then turned back to climb into the SUV. Ichigo squeaked behind him, but he was sure it was an attempt at an angry sound.

Shiro grabbed the boy's hand and he pulled him forward. His lips hovered over his ear. "Don't worry, I'll protect ya."

"This is _crazy_."

"I know." The nurse said, a shuddering sigh escaping his mouth.

Well, this sure hadn't been in his plans.

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**A/N: Well, this is just getting weird now, eh? I actually planned out every chapter and now it's not following it. I hope it's not too cheesy, don't worry it'll get better.. I think. Anyways, I hope the next chapter won't take as long, but I really wanted to get this one done before school started.**

**Leave lots'a reviews!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey! Long time no see. It's been almost two years since I updated? Haha. I'm really sorry about the wait; I completely got out of Bleach and got into things like Homestuck and The Wanted and various video games. But, I caught up with Bleach, and it inspired me to plug onward!**

**So here we are, folks! Chapter 8! I hope some of you still follow this story, lol.  
**

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The car ride was past uncomfortable. After being shoved in the backseat by some not-so-gentle hands of tux guy, he sidled close to Shiro. He was breathing audibly from his nose, not that he noticed, but attention was eventually drawn upon him as a familiar hand fell on his forearm. Instinctually, he stiffened, but his eyes trailed up to its owner, and Ichigo felt a fraction better. The confusion and concern clouding his eyes made his brows furrow; he had so many questions, but he was fairly certain that his school nurse could not exactly reveal much, not in this situation anyway. Shiro gave him a small smile, one that made him frown in return.

The elder's mouth twisted into a matching grimace. "I know what yer thinkin'."

He could not help an incredulous laugh. "Is it that obvious?" Ichigo punctuated the question sarcastically, a sort of defense mechanism since his nerves were deciding to go haywire. His blunt nails itched against the soft material of his gym shorts, his gaze searching Shiro's face.

"Sure." Shiro replied simply, turning his golden eyes forward to where two dark-haired men sat in front part of the car. His expression seemed to grow more sinister, lips twitching at the edge of snarl. "Why didn' I let ya go back inside the school?" He asked, as if that was what Ichigo had in mind.

Ichigo blinked at the nurse. "Uh, no, not exactly." Curious yellow orbs turned to him on that remark, and the teenager smiled nervously. He had more been wondering just who were their captors, where they were going, if Shiro was actually who he said he was. Had they not been interrupted, perhaps he would have been told the truth. Either way, he was going to be shown the answers soon enough, he guessed. "Besides, I wouldn't have left you here with batshit dudes hijacking you. Karakura High needs their nurse."

The paler laughed, short but still obviously amused. "That's nice t' know." Shiro muttered in reply, looking up again to the driver and passenger before them. He cleared his throat to speak up to them, but the boss man seemed to know what he was going to say because he interrupted him with a flick of his hand before hardly a noise emitted from his throat.

"Down this street is the determiner of your fate, Mr. Shiro." He stated, gesturing as he glanced back at the short-haired duo from the corner of his eye. "Elimination is something of a talent for you, no? Consider this your graduation exam." The man pauses to make a considering, thoughtful sound, rubbing the line of his jaw. The pose seemed genuine, but he was most apparently stalling for effect, something that made the orange-haired boy's teeth grit in annoyance. "Although, your girlfriend will have to stay put; we'll consider that collateral in case you fail to finish the job."

Ichigo balled his hands into fists; he was close to flailing to the driver's side and making them crash at this rate. He looked to Shiro. Surely this man that he had trusted so easily would not let this happen. Really though, the highschooler truly did not know what was happening; maybe there was nothing else to do but be held hostage. He watched as the nurse crossed his arms over his chest, watched as his face contorted into something cold, eyes glinting with a long-borne hatred for the speaker amongst them.

"Aizen, I'm th' only one who can do this job o' yours, so ya better treat me right, asshole." Shiro replied to the dubbed, Aizen, leaning back against the leather of the car.

Ichigo would have to keep a mental tally of how many times Shiro could hand someone's ass to them on a pretty silver platter, something that made him swell with an impending chuckle, but that would die shortly; the situation was enough to stifle his humor. His mind started to wander, however, would he even make it home in time for dinner? Screw dinner… would he make it home at all? His ochre eyes shifted warily as the car made its way up the street. One could never be so sure in the presence of crazy bastards whether he was going to make it home or not, something he had learned easily by having a certain bully pushing him around all the time. Grimmjow aside, it seemed there was definitely something larger happening to him, to Shiro. Some rustling snapped him from his thoughts, watching with renewed interest as the elder shrugged out of his white coat, a clean, light blue dress shirt underneath. In a different setting, he might have commented about how the color complimented the nurse. Maybe if he just laid his head back and closed his eyes he would only think of their playful banter, the inside of Shiro's apartment, their walk in the park, their kiss-

"Ya gonna be alrigh', kid?"

He must have been a little too dramatic with his head crank backwards. "Yeah, super." Ichigo replied, running a hand through his bright-colored hair in something like a combination of exasperation and anticipation; his emotions were efficiently muddled, at any rate, distorted enough for him to have only just now realized that they had stopped moving forward seconds ago. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, looking at Shiro who caught his gaze without effort. Despite the calm in the albino's eyes, Ichigo could not share that feeling; instead, he could feel his heartbeat knock in his head, an insistent pounding in his head that grew louder as he realized that whatever it was Shiro had to do for this man, he had to do it regardless.

"Show time, Mr. Shiro." Aizen interrupted their moment, smirking from his perch in the front seat.

Ichigo could understand loathing this guy; he was an insufferable prick. However, he looked past Shiro and out the tinted window. They were parked across the street from a large, two-story house. It looked abandoned. Typical, Ichigo thought with a soft snort. Crazy shit like this would not have happened in any other setting. He was going to ask a question, something to confirm his suspicions, something to ease his worries, something to quell the dread. The words never quite reach his lips though; he had nothing to say at that moment. Instead, he took it upon himself to gnaw on his lower lip, wishing this was all just a big joke, and the pair of them could go home now, forget about all this mess. He heard Shiro sigh, watched him pull something from behind his back. His eyes went wide, blinking as cold metal was placed in his hands, the elder's gun, a compact, powerful little thing.

"Don't le' these guys pull any bullshit on ya, Ichi. I'll be back 'fore ya know it." On that note, Shiro gave the boy a tight squeeze on his shoulder before sliding across the backseat of the SUV and just as smoothly easing himself out the door.

The teenager was not sure how he felt at that moment, groping for Shiro's long, nurse's coat and fisting up a handful. He would wait for him, not that he had much other choice. He had fifty speculations of the situation, at least. Though, his thoughts would not stay in one piece for him to properly dissect any of them. The pounding his heart was almost as infuriating as the slow tick of the clock, a faster pace being the only difference. Whether he liked it or not, there was more to Shiro than first seen, that much was most apparent to him. Shiro had protected him from Grimmjow, but he was not there now. He could not be there if things headed for the worst, could not be there to save the day. Ichigo would have to fend for himself for a while, however long that while might be. Depending on what kind of job Aizen had commissioned the nurse for, hours would pass before there would be any sign of Shiro.

One hour, give or take, to be exact, passed. Ichigo was in the backseat with his leg bouncing nervously, nearly clawing at Shiro's coat in his state of waiting. The dark-haired Aizen had tried making conversation here and there, and the boy had not responded until his nerves had peaked and he unleashed a string of hell upon the man, angry curses and shouting had made him start to shake. His adrenaline was tipping over the edge. He would keep waiting though, even as he watched the shadows changing outside, time ticking; he would not dare even watch the clock. Ichigo's resolve was remarkable until he heard it; muffled inside the car, but it still made him drop the pistol onto the floorboard, snapping his neck in the direction of the abandoned house so hard it hurt: an ear-splitting crack of a gun.

That was the last straw. "I'm sick of this shit." Ichigo snarled, without thinking, plundering out the side door and streaking across the road, across the overgrown lawn. The sun was hot on his back as he closed in on the front door. A part of his mind was relieved to know he was not being stopped; no one would stop him from busting the operation now. He was not going to let Shiro get hurt for some douchebag like Aizen. If the nurse was going to protect him from Grimmjow, then it was time he returned the favor.

Despite his thoughts, he paused at the door, hand taking up the chipped, golden knob in his clammy palm. A roaring beat in his ears, he twisted the knob roughly to the right, using his foot to fling the door forward and send it crashing against the wall with an echoing bang. His chest heaved visibly, eyes dancing about the decrepit staircase, the decaying wallpaper, the dreadful wooden floors that moaned beneath his feet as he much more cautiously stepped past the door's threshold. There was an eerie sort of quiet: no struggle, no shouting, absolute silence. Ichigo swallowed hard, creeping forward with an icy chill trickling down his spine. He could only hope that Shiro was excellent at dodging bullets or that he was excellent at hitting the mark; one could not tell from just sound who shot the gun.

He peered into the living room that was complete with an old antenna-bearing TV, a sofa whose white fluff was pluming from it like a grade school science experiment and a coffee table whose glass center was shattered everywhere. Ichigo did not stay long enough to investigate; alternatively, he made his way to the foot of the stairwell, gazing up to the hallway above to whose rooms he could not see. Gathering himself slowly, he gripped the handrail and pulled himself forward, every step making a god-awful creak, every step making him flinch. Once at the top, he rested, briefly, trying to calm down but finding it impossible; he had to find out if Shiro was okay before he could even think calming thoughts. Down the hall, he trekked, ever so carefully. Thankfully, when his shoe slid on a wet spot, he had been creeping so attentively, he had not slipped. However, the liquid that could have tripped him was awfully dark and crimson against the dusty wooden floor.

"Ichigo!" The voice made him jump violently, and his heart nearly tore from his ribcage.

He whipped around, a rush of emotions making his eyes sting with something he did not want to admit was happening when he recognized the pale figure before him; his shirt was no longer tucked in and was no longer clean anymore, deep red splattered across his left sleeve, the collar and further down on his pants. Ichigo felt a little sick at the realization that was not Shiro's blood on him, but at the same time he was strangely relieved. He wanted to run over to him, ask him if he was okay, but his feet would not move, and his mouth felt much too dry to speak.

Thankfully, Shiro seemed to gather the shock fairly quickly, stepping over to him and taking him up in an embrace. Ichigo still felt frozen, but gradually he relaxed in the elder's arms, making a sighing noise. And eventually, his indignation returned, just a trickle, one that made him push Shiro away like he was trying to save some pride. He would not let his fear be portrayed so easily, at least, if Shiro could not already see it plainly. "I was fucking sitting in that car for an hour and a half! What the hell kind of job sends you into an abandoned shithole," the carrot top stopped to gesture erratically to the albino, "where you get covered in blood?"

The nurse growled a little, impatiently taking up Ichigo's hands and squeezing. "I'll explain everythin' later, Ichi." He replied, a rather unsatisfying thing for the other. Shiro seemed to immediately notice the impatient twitch Ichigo had but wasted no time in tugging him back down the stairs. "I promise I'll tell ya everythin', okay? I jus' need t' get the fuck outta here."

At that moment, the highschooler felt a twinge of sympathy for Shiro, his brown eyes softening on the bloody man, only now noting where red touched his alabaster skin. He sort of spaced out as they ran across the front yard together, wide strides taking them both back to the black SUV. Ichigo ducked in first, nearly cracking his head from not paying attention. Everything felt strangely muffled as he tried to sift through the events that had passed as he stare down at the abandoned gun between his shoes with no intent, just thought. There was some growling words passed from Shiro to the smoother, cocky voice of Aizen, nothing more than a simple confirmation before the SUV started on its course. As they drove, he thought he felt Shiro close to him, close enough for comforting, but registering the elder was proving difficult.

In a mixed perception of time, Ichigo realized they had stopped once more. He lifted his head, staring out the window; they were in the school parking lot which was largely empty now, students and faculty having dispersed from the premises. Shiro kindly guided him from Aizen's kidnapping vehicle, immediately pushing him behind him as the driver's side window rolled down. Aizen, on the opposite side in the passenger seat, was smiling at the two.

"It has been a pleasure working with you." He spoke, dark eyes moving on the orange-haired teenager shortly afterward. "As it was meeting you, Mr. Kurosaki." With that, the window was drawn up, and the SUV made a screech as it lurched forward and sped off toward the exit.

Ichigo did not respond but rather felt a cold nervousness settle in his stomach. How had Aizen known his name? He shook his head, moving away from the albino momentarily and rubbing his forehead tiredly. So much had happened that he did not know what questions to ask any longer. He meandered over to Shiro's sleek car, cynically thinking of how nice it was of his boss to leave them so close to his vehicle.

"Ichi," he was addressed quietly, a hand wrapping around his upper arm, "are ya okay?" Shiro's golden eyes were staring straight at him, the lines in his brow deep with concern.

He managed the ghost of smile. "Uh, not sure about that yet." Ichigo responded, holding his head up and looking out at the street where the occasional cars passed. Finally, he turned to Shiro, immediately noting their close proximity, but the contact was not exactly unwanted. He felt safer when the pale-haired nurse was so close. Technically, their escapade had only cost them the rest of school hours and then some; his family would not be terrible worried unless it was dark. He had time to spare, time he wanted to take advantage of to find out who Shiro really was, what Aizen was doing fucking around with his life. Staring at the elder, coated in a sheen of splattered blood, he realized he had truly become involved in something far beyond what he had expected, far from the trivial beatings of Grimmjow and his mixed feelings for Shiro. "We should go." Ichigo said.

It seemed to be all that Shiro needed. He released the boy, rounding his car to the driver's side and clicking the button to release the lock. Ichigo opened the door and climbed inside, feeling a sense of privacy even if it was just a car. As Shiro turned the key, the vehicle purred to life, and Ichigo inhaled deeply, glad to smell the nurse's familiar, sweet scent. In the time that they had entered the car, Shiro had acquired a handkerchief of sorts and was wiping some of the blood from his neck and face, where it stained his forearm as he stared himself down in the overhead mirror. The first question of the evening popped in his mind: "Are you hurt?"

Shiro paused, appearing to consider this as he slowly turned his attention on the carrot top. A small grin split across his lips, his eyes tired but still sparking with the faintest amusement. "Now, what kind'a nurse would I be if I was th' one gettin' hurt all th' time?" He questioned back smartly before resuming his grooming. "Ya seem more'n capable of doin' that fer me."

Ichigo allowed a soft laugh, weak as it was. "You're fucking nuts." He remarked exasperatedly, letting his skull hit the headrest with a plunking sound as he closed his eyes. He stayed there for a few moments, considering how his heart rate had considerably slowed as Shiro switched gears and began to accelerate them onward. Eventually, he peeked at the elder as they turned onto the main road.

"You have a lot to tell me, Shiro." Ichigo said softly, noticing a few smudges of crimson the nurse had neglected to clean.

"I know." He replied, grip tightening on the steering wheel noticeably as he took a couple seconds to look at the orange-haired boy. "But I think yer worth tellin'."

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**A/N: Pretty CRAZY now. Haha.**

**I hope not too crazy.. we'll have to find out just what Shiro has to tell Ichi next chapter. I also hope my writing style hasn't changed terribly? I grew up a little, at the very least.  
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**Reviews and favorites are always appreciated!  
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